


Shattered Souls

by Soraan



Series: Dark Ranger series [3]
Category: World of Warcraft, Wrath of the Lich King Expansion
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/F, Femslash, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Drama, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 102,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7010353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soraan/pseuds/Soraan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years after the Fall of Silvermoon, Alyna and Sylvanas struggle to accept what they have become, and what they are to each other, as they seek revenge against Arthas for what he has done to them. Femslash. Dark Ranger Series #3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Azeroth, and the denizens there of, belong to Blizzard Entertainment. While Alyna and a few others are of my own creation, pretty much everything else has been shamelessly pillaged, coerced, and/or re-imagined for your entertainment.**

**A/N - This is the third story of the _Dark Ranger_  series. If you haven't read the first two, Fires of Rebirth and Sun's Fall, be warned there are plot spoilers in this story should you then go back and read them after this.**

**While I am generally very picky about lore, I also believe that the addition of major characters can change how things turn out, or how they arrive at key points within the story of Warcraft. This is basically me pre-empting "But that's not how it happened!". If you think that, you'd most likely be right - but that's how it will happen in my world :) If you can't accept that, or a consenting sexual relationship between two women, this is not for you. Otherwise, please enjoy! Constructive criticism welcome.**

**I will update this weekly on Sundays, and if I have been busy writing, also on Wednesdays.**

**This story depicts events immediately leading up to and through the _Wrath of the Lich King_ expansion. For those who may notice, my timeline will become slightly stretched from now on. I disagree with Blizzard having each expansion last just a single year of lore time, so this story will span two to three years instead of just the one.**

**Buckle up, because this is going to be a long one!**

**Trigger warnings for sex, violence, suggested rape, rape, torture and suggested torture. I can't say I enjoy writing most of those things but they're not gratuitous. They're included only when I feel it is absolutely necessary and vital to the progression of the plot. I'll include a warning at the start of the chapter for the actual torture and actual rape scenes. For the rest, this is your only warning. Sorry. It's Warcraft. Shit happens.**

* * *

Ten months had passed since the Fall of Silvermoon, though time was something that did not bother the creature that had been Sylvanas Windrunner anymore. Raised from death as a banshee, she floated along obediently behind the lich known as Kel’Thuzad, the birth of whom was responsible for corrupting the Sunwell. In life, he had been the human responsible for founding the Cult of the Damned and for spreading the plague of undeath across Lordaeron. In death, he was a powerful skeletal horned lieutenant that was utterly loyal to the Lich King.

Sylvanas rankled. When Arthas had stood at the Elfgate, he had mentioned a lord he served. When he had killed her and pulled her violently back from her afterlife she had become completely bound to Arthas’ runeblade, Frostmourne. While she was still capable of free will, for reasons she didn’t know and no longer cared, he could compel her into any action at a whim. He had used that power to force her to slaughter her people, at his side, in the Lich King’s name. She had heard whispers at the back of her consciousness, and had genuinely thought she was going mad. Then the voice had spoken to her fully. Through Frostmourne, the Lich King could control Arthas, and through Arthas he controlled them all. The Scourge, he had called the vast army of death that had been amassed.

They had swept across the land, even destroying the mighty city of Dalaran. Then, the vile lich she now trailed behind had summoned a demon lord called Archimonde. Sylvanas had laughed her delight when she realised the Lich King had a lord himself, and Archimonde took over the main host of the Scourge as soon as he arrived. Their task had been done, and the demons invaded Azeroth for the second time in ten thousand years. Arthas and the Lich King had been cast aside. Arthas had been enraged, but Kel’Thuzad had calmly given him further instructions as this had somehow been foreseen by the Lich King. The death knight had left for the continent of Kalimdor, leaving Kel’Thuzad behind to secure Lordaeron. The last thing Arthas had done before leaving, was to order the Cult to take Alyna away to a fate and location that were unknown to Sylvanas.

She felt her hatred and anger rise almost uncontrollably as she thought of past events. Arthas had not killed Alyna that day at the Sunwell. He had realised Alyna had meant something more to Sylvanas, and he had kept her alive. He had forced Sylvanas to watch as he tortured her, using her as revenge and entertainment. The former general had been incensed, and had been unable to stop her powerful banshee scream from escaping her on numerous occasions, inadvertently hurting her beloved terribly each time. He had particularly enjoyed those moments. He had even taken them to their former home at Windrunner Spire, and Alyna’s blood now covered the floor and walls of several rooms, including their bedroom. Once he had tired of his efforts, he had turned what was left of Alyna over to the still-living members of the Cult. They had given in to more base needs, which had driven Sylvanas into a furious rage. During a moment of distraction on Arthas’ part where his control had weakened, she had managed to kill two cultists while they had been enjoying Alyna. While she could force her clawed hands into the physical world to kill, she had been unable to do the same to hold Alyna and comfort her. Arthas had known exactly what to do to drive both of them to their limits.

Despite it all, she had been proud of her beloved. The torment had been relentless, and Alyna had held out for a couple of weeks before her will had been broken. Sylvanas had been forced to watch, as always, and she had felt something snap inside herself at the same moment. Watching her formerly beautiful lover, now a shattered elf begging for mercy knowing it would never happen, solidified Sylvanas’ resolve. No matter what happened, or how long it took, Sylvanas would have her vengeance on the Lich King, on Arthas, and on the Cult.

Then she was gone, taken by the disgusting humans on Arthas’ orders. A large number of the female rangers who had once taken orders from Sylvanas in life, now served her in death as fellow banshees. Arthas called her the Banshee Queen. He had given her power, and she would make him pay dearly for that mistake. Sylvanas had thought Alyna would have been eventually killed and made into a banshee like the rest, but it would seem Arthas had other plans, and he was not sharing them. If it were even possible, she hated him more for that. She had assumed that she and Alyna would be reunited in death, even as slaves to the Lich King. They would not have even that.

Sylvanas screamed her anguish and fury, unable to hold it back any longer. The human cultists nearby collapsed in agony onto the ground, halting their march. They were returning to the ruins of Capital City, the headquarters for the Scourge in what was now called the Plaguelands. Lordaeron had been wiped from the map by death.

Kel’Thuzad turned, his flaming eyes aimed in her direction. He had no flesh, and therefore lacked facial expressions, but Sylvanas had spent ten months at his side and she knew how to read his subtle changes in posture. He was annoyed.

“I realise it’s your nature to cry out like that, but you’d find it would happen less frequently and be more in your control if you stopped fighting what you are.”

She snarled at him but said nothing. It was a conversation they’d had many times. He accepted fully what he was and even enjoyed it. He actually believed what he was now was superior to being alive. Sylvanas hated everything about her existence, and to torment her and her banshees further, he had kept their bodies locked away as permanent reminders that their resistance sealed their fate.

As they entered the now broken gates of Capital City, Sylvanas felt no joy or comfort. Everything was rotting here as much as the occupants were. She followed Kel’Thuzad through the wide streets and promenades to what had been the royal gardens. A year ago, Arthas had strode these same streets on his way to murdering his father. Three large demons stood together in conversation. They were different to Archimonde, from a race called the Nathrezim, though they called themselves dreadlords. Archimonde had left them in command of the Scourge while he went to Kalimdor to destroy the World Tree and the kaldorei, the original race of elves also known as night elves.

She was not entirely sure what the three demons were still doing here. The Lich King had told Kel’Thuzad months ago that Archimonde and the Burning Legion had been defeated. The night elves had sacrificed their immortality in the process, but the world was safe. Part of Sylvanas had been saddened by the news. As much as she hated the Legion and the Scourge, she was now also fostering a deep hatred of the living, thanks to the Cult and their actions. She would quite happily see everything destroyed.

One of the demons stamped his hoof impatiently as they entered, his deep voice rumbling through the yard. “It’s been months since we last heard from Lord Archimonde.” He was the leader of the three, known as Detheroc. “I grow tired of watching over these rotting undead! What are we still doing here?”

“We were charged with overseeing this land, Detheroc,” reminded the one Sylvanas knew as Balnazzar. “It is our duty to remain here to ensure the Scourge is ready for action.”

The third, Varimathras, agreed. “True. Although we should have received orders by now.”

Sylvanas turned to Kel’Thuzad, her words quiet so the demons could not hear her question. “How can they still not know about the Legion’s defeat?”

“Impossible to say,” replied the lich. “But as long as they’re in command they’re running the Scourge into the ground.”

A loud sound interrupted what the lich may have said next, and both undead creatures turned towards the entrance to the gardens, along with the demons. Sylvanas cursed silently as she saw Arthas arrive, riding his undead horse. He wore the same self-assured smile he always did, and Sylvanas wanted nothing more than to wipe it from his face. She tried to move away, but realised she couldn’t. His arrival had meant his control over her had reasserted itself. She could no longer move her spectral form of her own free will and she silently seethed inside.

For their part, the demons were stunned to see him. His oddly cheerful voice did nothing to help their confusion.

“Greetings, dreadlords. I thank you for looking after my kingdom during my absence. However, I won’t be requiring your services any longer.”

They stared at him in disbelief before Balnazzar found his voice. “This land is ours. The Scourge belongs to the Legion!”

Arthas chuckled gleefully. “Not anymore, demon. Your masters have been defeated. The Legion is undone. Your deaths will complete the circle.” He lifted Frostmourne and charged at the three dreadlords. They were faster though, and they disappeared through a demonic portal.

Still maintaining his good mood, Arthas turned and beckoned to Sylvanas. Lacking any ability to resist, she went to him.

Kel’Thuzad positively overflowed with joy at his master’s return. “We knew you would return to us, Prince Arthas!”

Still looking at Sylvanas, Arthas crooned, “Did you, too, know I would return, little banshee?”

“I did,” returned Sylvanas coldly. And she had. If he had met his true death elsewhere that would have robbed her of her revenge, and that would have been unacceptable. He was not happy with her blunt reply, and he twitched a finger. Pain wracked her form as he tortured what was left of her soul, and she gasped in shock. “Prince Arthas,” she added.

He laughed. “Ah, but you may call me king. This is, after all, my land. I was born to rule and I shall. Once the —”

His words broke off as he doubled over in pain, hunching over the skeletal neck of his horse. A sound Sylvanas had hoped to hear one day washed through her ears and she felt the first stirrings of joy since she had died – Arthas was crying out sharply in agony. She had no idea why he was suffering, but she took great pleasure in every moment it endured.

“The pain … is unbearable!” The death knight uttered. “What is happening to me?” His eyes unfocused as he appeared to be listening to something no one else could hear. Sylvanas knew it would be the Lich King.

Kel’Thuzad was buzzing around frantically. “King Arthas! Do you require assistance?” The lich appeared genuinely concerned, and Sylvanas recoiled at the idea of actually caring for this former human.

“No … no, the pain has passed but … my powers … are _diminished_.” Sylvanas felt another thrill of joy pass through her. “Something is terribly wrong here, I —”

His body spasmed and he gasped desperately. Sylvanas watched everything carefully as Kel’Thuzad fluttered about uselessly. When the spasm passed, Arthas dismounted and landed hard on the paved ground, falling to his knees. Kel’Thuzad was at his side, helping him up.

“My old quarters,” gasped Arthas. “I need rest – and then I have a longer journey to prepare for.”

Sylvanas watched them go, the self-styled king staggering weakly. She felt her spectral lips curl into a smile. With halting confusion, she noticed she could move, despite the ‘king’ still being nearby. She spun around slowly and stretched her arms. Then, she laughed.

* * *

 

A few days had passed since Sylvanas had realised she was free from Arthas’ control. It had been temporary at first, but now her puppet strings were permanently severed. Arthas had spent the days resting, still suffering from seizures. Each fit had relaxed his grip on Sylvanas until she had been completely free. She had used that freedom to arrange a meeting with the three dreadlords. _The enemy of my enemy_ , she thought. They had given her the vital piece of the puzzle that had been missing to her; they had told her why she was free. The Lich King was losing his power, and this was weakening Arthas and causing his pain. As the Lich King weakened, so did his ability to control undead. It was not just Sylvanas who was free, she knew, as several of her banshees had also wrested control of their will back.

The demons wanted Arthas dead, and so did Sylvanas, so they had come to a mutual agreement to assist each other. In truth, Sylvanas was just using the demons to further her own goal – revenge. They had tried to manipulate her but she had made them see the only way they would be rid of Arthas was to trust Sylvanas, and they agreed to her terms. She was no fool. She knew as soon as Arthas was dead they would turn on her.

She would be ready for them.

For now, it was time to get ready for Arthas. Part of her deal with the demons had been to get her body back. True to their word, for now, they had broken the lock on the iron coffin that contained her body. Standing there alone, she gazed down at her form. It still wore the armour she had worn the day she died, albeit scuffed, soiled and torn. Her body’s skin had changed to a pale blue-grey, and somehow the innumerate wounds she had suffered that day were gone. Her skin was pristine, save for a very faint scar just below her ribs where Frostmourne had slain her. Her hair had faded from the beautiful gold of the sun to a pale silvery blonde.

She looked dead.

Sylvanas threw herself into her body and gasped with the sensation. Banshees could take over bodies, destroying the soul of the occupant in the process, and she had done this many times. When she had possessed humans, for brief minutes she would experience breathing and know what it was like to be a warm, living being again. Falling into her own lifeless carcass felt cold, but familiar. She allowed her essence to spread through every sinew, quite literally slipping into her own skin.

She opened her eyes, and they glowed red with her rage and burning need for revenge.

* * *

 

Sylvanas wanted to scream, but she swallowed it. She punched her fist into the trunk of a tree in frustration instead, mildly curious by the dull ache she felt where normally there would have been pain. She luxuriated in the faint sensation, having not had a body to feel anything with for so long.

Nothing was responding to her like it used to. She no longer had her deep connection to nature, and she could feel her sanity tearing at the edges. It was something she had not considered. She had just assumed that reclaiming her body would make her feel alive, and everything would be the same, but reality had been cold, and harsh. Her body was dead, and she was a ranger no more. She felt her eyes sting and she blinked. She was quite sure tears were beyond her, but it seemed that would not stop her body from trying.

A hare bolted into her path and she lashed out at it, cursing it with a spell borne of the shadow magic that was now natural to her. She looked at her hand with surprise. When she had previously occupied bodies, shadow magic had been inaccessible to her. But then, those bodies had been alive. She watched the hare writhe in pain, unable to flee. She wished it was Arthas. He had done this to her and what was happening to the hare was the least of what she wanted to do to him.

Sylvanas began experimenting with what she was able to do in her body. Her bow had been left with her corpse, almost like a trophy, and she quickly went about making some arrows. She was content to see none of her martial skill had diminished with her death. If anything, she no longer had to deal with muscle strain or exhaustion anymore. Within hours, she almost smiled. Nature was lost to her, but shadow … shadow was responding to her just as strongly as nature had, and she found she was able to bend it to her will to mimic certain ranger abilities. What she couldn’t mimic, she disregarded and designed something to replace it.

She knew there was a lot more she could explore, but time, for once, was short. The dreadlords would be putting her plan into motion soon, and she still had to prepare her trap. With Arthas so weak, the demons had wrested control of a large portion of the Scourge. They were going to attack him, and drive him out of Capital City. Sylvanas’ banshees would feign loyalty, and guide him to a spot within the Tirisfal Glades where she would take her revenge.

No normal arrow would be able to pierce Arthas’ armour, or do anything beyond annoy him should it even be able to do that. After spending time in this region during the Second War, Sylvanas knew what resources were available to her. She set about gathering the materials she needed for a special poison that she now knew she could enhance with her newly created school of ranger magic. Dark ranger magic. Once that was done, she hurried to where her banshees would lead Arthas, an abandoned farmer’s field bordered by forest.

She made it just in time. She could see her banshees floating ethereally out into the field, leading Arthas mounted on his horse. They stopped, and she could hear him questioning them as to where everyone else was. He gasped with pain as she watched another of his seizures grip him, and she slowly strode out of the treeline, drinking in the sight of his agony. Her banshees spread out around him while he was distracted.

Before he was fully recovered, he looked around, and saw her. She smiled cruelly at him, enjoying the utter shock on his pale face.

“What is … happening here?” he managed.

Sylvanas chuckled and raised her bow, the special arrow already nocked. “You walked right into this one, Arthas.”

She released the arrow.

It slammed into his left shoulder, and she watched his surprise play across his face.

“You were expecting a death blow, false king?” she taunted.

He tried to pull the arrow out, but his arm only twitched. She laughed deeply as the poison acted rapidly on his body, paralysing him. She began to close the distance between them, taking her time. 

“Traitor! What … have you done?”

“It’s a special poisoned arrow I made just for you. Do you like it?” She slung her bow across her back and drew a dagger. She snarled at him. “What you’re experiencing now is just a fraction of the agony you have cause me.”

She grabbed his numb arm and pulled him off his horse to crumple onto the grass with a grunt. She pushed his shoulder to move him onto his back and played the dagger across his throat, enjoying the flash of fear in his eyes.

“Finish me, then,” he uttered.

“You want a quick death? Like the one you gave me?” Her red eyes flashed with anger and she saw him flinch. “Oh no. You taught me well, Arthas Menethil. You showed me to never show mercy to my enemies, and how to enjoy their pain when torturing them. After you tell me what I need to know, you are going to suffer as I have.”

At that moment, he smirked at her. “You want to know what I did with your _bitch_.”

She struck him hard with the back of her gauntlet before wondering if he had the same dulled sense to physical pain as she did. His chuckle told her he did. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and cast one of her newly designed spells on it. She then drove the tip with all her considerable strength through the gap in his armour at his groin into his thigh. While a spell, it acted as a poison on his very essence and she watched his eyes widen at the pain.

“Crudely put,” she snarled, “but, yes. You will tell me what you’ve done with Alyna.”

He cried out as the spell went through its course within his body. Sylvanas was pleased with the enduring pain he was suffering, not having had the chance to test it on something larger than rodents and hares.

Eventually, he gasped in relief. “She is beyond you now, banshee. The Lich King has her, and she serves him _beautifully_.” He knew what had been done to her, she realised.

She grabbed him by the neck. Unlike her, he still needed to breathe and she squeezed his windpipe closed for long moments as she shouted, “What have you done to her, you savage?!”

Amusement flickered through his pale blue eyes and she knew he was laughing silently at her. She dropped his limp body so he could speak, his voice hoarse, “Not much more than what you witnessed for yourself. But what _he_ has done … is glorious.”

She wanted to know more. _Needed_ … to know exactly where she was and what had happened. She wanted to rescue Alyna and, together, they would fully have their revenge.

Before she could have any of her answers, she felt a deep pain in her hand and she staggered back from Arthas. Her dagger dropped to the floor as she stared at her hand in confusion.

“Back, you traitorous banshees! You shall not fall today, my king!”

Kel’Thuzad! Sylvanas whirled around to face him. He was surrounded by loyal Scourge and they launched themselves against Sylvanas and her banshees. She knew immediately she would not win this fight against the powerful sorcerer.

She growled her ire. She’d had Arthas exactly how she’d wanted him! She turned to him, knowing he was still unable to move. “This isn’t over, Arthas! I’ll _never_ stop hunting you!”

Sylvanas backed away towards the trees, pulling the shadows in around her. It was a technique she had practised that allowed her to disappear, and she was relieved at the ease the ability had come to her during battle. Once she was sure she could not be seen, she turned and ran. Her banshees had also left the battle, and she knew they would follow her.

She ran until she was sure she could safely stop without risk of attack from the Scourge. As soon as she did, she was surrounded by banshees. One of them glided over to her, and she recognised the spirit as the one known as Kyala in life.

“What now, my Queen?”

Sylvanas blinked at the title. “We are free now. I’m your queen no longer.”

They looked between each other before Kyala seemingly replied for all of them. “Would you prefer ‘general’?”

She realised that with their free will intact, they were lost. They had no idea what to do as free banshees. She didn’t know either. She also didn’t care.

“I’d prefer to be left alone.” She began jogging towards the coast. She could feel Kyala gliding along silently beside her. She didn’t look back, but she guessed the others were also following.

“Where are you going, my … sister?” asked Kyala.

“To the coast.” Pre-empting the next question, she explained, “He said Alyna is with the Lich King. I believe he’s somewhere in Northrend, so she must also be there.”

“You don’t know what he has done to her, sister. There may be nothing left of her to save.”

Sylvanas stubbornly gritted her teeth, now she could. She didn’t want to believe what Kyala had suggested, but she couldn’t help but wonder. Was that why she hadn’t been brought back to the Plaguelands? She knew Arthas and the Lich King had liked to experiment by creating new forms of undead, which included mutilating bodies and stitching different parts together … had they experimented on her? Had it gone wrong? She tried to push the thoughts away but they plagued her the entire journey. Without the need to eat, sleep, drink or even slow down to rest weary muscles, Sylvanas made it to the coast within a couple of days. The banshees followed her wordlessly the entire way, and witnessed her anguish when she saw all of the boats had been scuttled.

“No, no, no, no!” she cried, hurrying between the different craft to check them for seaworthiness. Not a single one of them could even be repaired enough to make it to the frozen northern continent. She briefly considered trying to swim it, being already dead, but she knew that was folly.

She fell to her knees at the end of the main pier and screamed her grief, anger and heartache into the empty sea. All this time, she had refused to grieve for Alyna because she had always thought she would see her again. She had not realised she would be taken directly to the Lich King. What exactly had she planned to do about that? Kill him to save her? Killing Arthas was one thing, but she had felt the Lich King’s considerable power and knew there was nothing she could do about it alone. She gave in to her grief, desperately wishing she could cry.

Alyna was lost to her. She had nothing left but revenge.

When she finally stopped screaming, she saw Kyala floating beside her again. She said nothing, but Sylvanas realised she didn’t have to. She was not alone. She had her banshees, and she could help them get their bodies back too. If they were free, surely there were other undead who were also free. Would they join her? Would they follow her in enacting vengeance on Arthas and the Lich King?

She knew then what she would do. It would take many, many years, but she would recruit an army and sail to Northrend. She would hunt down Arthas, and make him pay. And then she would take out her own version of justice on the Lich King.

And she would let no one get in her way.

Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen, rose to her feet and walked back down the pier to her waiting subjects.

“Come, sisters. We have work to do.”

* * *

 

**A/N - I have taken some of the conversational lines used in the book _Arthas: Rise of the Lich King_. This has been done for no gain, and I give full credit for those to the author Christie Golden. I just saw no need to rewrite something I feel I cannot add to or improve upon.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Six years after the Fall of Silvermoon…_

The female figure stood on top of the cliff, gazing down at the activity below her. She was surrounded by all manner of undead beings, some humanoid, others grotesque and deformed, all going about their tasks. Despite the activity, she was distinctly alone. They all gave her a wide birth, her aura of malice and foreboding almost visible in its intensity.

She watched impassively as the death knights below her charged into a line of heavily armoured humans who were part of the Scarlet Crusade. They were a fanatical order dedicated to the Light, and sworn to the destruction of the Scourge. They were so single-minded that even the rest of their race distanced themselves from their blazing red banners and religiously blinded lifestyle. They were now paying for their folly. Her death knights were just as heavily armoured, and armed with specially forged runeblades. Masters of blood, frost, and undeath, they slaughtered the red knights where they stood. Not that they had much say in their actions. An intrinsic part of a death knight’s nature was the need to cause pain in others. If they didn’t, they would suffer terribly themselves in time. It drove them to great acts of cruelty, which was exactly what the Lich King desired. Those who failed in their task, died. All those who fell, death knight and human alike, would be raised later as mindless ghouls, and thrown back into the fray.

It was a seemingly endless cycle, and one she had watched over a hundred times in the last few months. She wondered if the humans had any idea what their role in all this was, or if they just continued to blindly throw themselves into her clutches, ignorant of the truth. They believed they were holding back the Scourge, preventing her particular tide of undeath from sweeping the plaguelands once again. To her, they were a mere training ground on which to weed out the weak from the strong. They thought themselves a serious threat. She saw them as a child’s playground.

If she still breathed, she would have sighed. She was mind-numbingly bored.

Anyone looking up at her from below would have seen a fearsome sight. She was one of the San’layn, the ruling elite of the Darkfallen, a race of vampiric undead elves in service to the Lich King. She had been the first to be created nearly six years ago, and now served as a general within the Scourge. Her bone-white hair whipped about her smooth, necrotic features, her skin having long lost the sheen of life to that of a light grey pallor. She wore dramatic crimson and orange delicate garments that swirled around her and visually signified her as spell caster. They were immodest in how they covered her body, leaving nothing to the imagination, and were completely impractical for the cool weather. If she had been alive that is – the cold would never again be a problem for her. Her wide, high collar brought attention to her face, where she wore a crimson mask patterned with fierce gold fangs over her nose and mouth, a trademark of the San’layn. It was a stark reminder to all what she was, and if anyone was not sure, her massive leathery wings would leave them in no doubt. Only a handful of the most powerful amongst the San’layn had grown them, all females, and they were the envy of the rest of her artificial race. Bat-like and fierce, they made her imposing to look at just by themselves.

Not that anyone really looked at her anymore. All anyone saw when they dared to peer into her glowing black eyes was agonised fury, and the deep, endless hunger that plagued every moment of her existence.

And she was starving.

Others of her kind would have leapt into the humans below and fed until they were sated. But not her. The Lich King had torn her very soul apart, a significant piece of it forever residing in his cursed runeblade, Frostmourne, binding her to his will. He had abused her body in every possible way, tortured her mind until she was sure she had lost it, and bent her will until she lay before him, utterly broken. But, her hunger was her own. It was one of only two things of any consequence that she could still actually feel, and while she did, perhaps … perhaps there was hope she could feel more one day. To sate it, was to stop feeling it. And then all she had left was the bitter rage that consumed her being.

She would have to feed eventually, of course. And soon. Too soon. Until then, while he still allowed her any semblance of free choice, she chose to endure the suffering. It was hardly an act of rebellion. It couldn’t even be seen as the ill-conceived act of a stubborn child. It just … was.

She became aware of a figure approaching, one of the recently raised death knight acolytes by the glimpse of his simple robes. She did not turn to greet him. His voice was tinged with the grating sound of death, a trait she shared with him, though it was more pronounced in the death knight.

“Your Highness, Highlord Darion Mograine has returned.”

She gave him the smallest of nods to acknowledge his words, and he left her alone, moving quickly out of her peripheral vision.

While she commanded all of the Scourge forces in the region, Mograine was responsible for the death knights. As a powerful death knight himself, he was loyal, methodical, and ruthless. That had made him the perfect candidate to send to reclaim the fallen city of Stratholme for the Scourge. Some Alliance do-gooders had decided to purge the city of her minions and had managed to kill the local death knight ruler, Lord Aurius Rivendare, in the process. Mograine’s return meant he had been successful. Any other result was not an option for him.

Now that he was back, there was no need for her to directly oversee his death knights. She turned away from her vantage point and walked towards a teleportation pad. The glowing blue platform gave her direct access to the seat of her domain, the Scourge necropolis known as Acherus. The floating black monstrosity was a formidable fortress, and she had been commanded to bring it to the Eastern Plaguelands several months ago. The Lich King had stepped up the creation of new death knights since he had woken from his slumber, and there was no better source of corpses than the former kingdom of Lordaeron.

She stepped lightly onto the pad, and drew her wings into her body out of habit. The necropolis was spacious in places, but after spending most of the past few years in the wide open spaces of Northrend, she still felt cramped inside even the largest constructs.

With a nod to a nearby attendant, Blood Princess Alyna Darkfury teleported home.

She found Mograine stood on a large open-air staging platform that was used to launch aerial attacks. Great stone gargoyles were busy flying in bodies of various races, and there was a growing pile of them on the floor. In life, Mograine had been a large muscular human. His heavy black plate armour was tooled with skulls, bones, and a delicate lattice work that reminded Alyna of a spider’s web. It also glowed cerulean blue in places, adding to his aura of menace. She rarely saw him without his helm on, and the two great horns on it reached up to the sky. The legendary sword “Ashbringer” was slung across his back, its essence corrupted by its wielder’s state of undeath.

She approached silently, and if he hadn’t been watching for her she knew she could have caught him unawares. He hated it when she did that. Consequently, she did it on every possible occasion.

“Is it done?” She spoke to him in Common, the language of the humans. Most of the early sentient Scourge had been formerly human, like their master, so it had become an unofficial unifying language.

“Yes, your Highness.” His voice was strong, and the vibration of death echoed through the air.

“And Rivendare?”

“He has been raised again by the necromancers. I left him some Ash’ari crystals to fortify the area.” She could see his sneer through the gap in his helm. “They should keep him _relatively_ unharmed.”

She raised a long white elven eyebrow at the ‘relatively’.

He smiled sadistically. “I took Ramstein with me, and left it there.”

She almost smiled. Ramstein was a hideous stitched-together monster of an abomination responsible for the deaths of thousands. What it lacked in intellect, it made up for in brutality. Rivendare had his work cut out for him staying on its good side. If it had a good side.

She allowed some of her amusement to sound in her voice. “He should be grateful he gets a second chance. I could have had him raised as a broken cadaver.”

“I made sure he is well aware of the debt he owes you, your Highness.”

He sounded sincere enough, so she looked past him to the now complete pile of corpses in various states of decomposition. She knew the stench emanating from them was strong. While her sense of pain was greatly diminished, as was most of her taste, she now had exceptional sight, hearing and smell. She could definitely smell them, but whatever part of her brain that would have interpreted it as stomach-churning in life, now understood it as she had a very stale room in death. It had taken her years to get used to the sights, but she was now assessing the bodies with a detached gaze.

“I see you found some new recruits.”

He practically beamed at the pile. “I did! Some appear to have even been Alliance and Horde soldiers in life. Assuming their minds are not completely destroyed as they are raised, they will prove very useful indeed.”

She nodded. “When you’re done sorting this, come find me. We need to talk.”

“About?” His tone wasn’t challenging, but curious. She allowed it, but only with him. They had a good working relationship, and he had been instrumental in preparing the death knights for the primary reason they had come to the plaguelands. They were not friends – such a concept did not exist here – but they were as close to it as any two Scourge could be.

She threw him a verbal bone. “Light’s Hope Chapel.”

She could feel his frown at her back as she walked away.

* * *

 

_A few days later…_

Alyna stood over the bowl of cold water, stripped naked of her robes. A light blue scar stretched across her abdomen where Arthas had pierced her with Frostmourne to finally take her life. She leant against the marble counter and shuddered at the memory. On his way back to Lordaeron from Kalimdor, he had stopped by where she was being held on Naxxramas. The necropolis was the largest of them all, and where she had been taken to. At the time it had been in the mountainous peaks of Icecrown, in Northrend. The Lich King had been ready for her to die, and he ran her through slowly with his damned runeblade. She had been reborn in a ritual that still made her quake, having witnessed it herself several times after as others followed her path. The pain of her soul being ripped from her warm afterlife, and then torn apart, had been indescribable. It had shortly been followed by the agony of her body reshaping itself, though even that had paled in comparison to being risen from the dead.

She smashed her fist into the marble, cracking it, and a few bones in her fingers. She growled at the barely noticeable throb before she willed her energy into her digits. She then willed her rage to recede as she watched her hand heal. A faint glint of metal flashed from her third finger, and she looked numbly at her wedding ring.

_Sylvanas._

She forced the thought away. It only made her angry, and the last time she had lost her temper had not been pretty. The tantrums made her look weak, and she couldn’t afford that. She closed her eyes and leant over the bowl, finally dipping her hands into the water to begin washing the blood and gore off her body. She had nearly left it too long this time before sating her hunger. She had eventually gone to the human village to feed and had, very briefly, lost control and gone into a blood craze. She seethed quietly at her stupidity as she continued to wash her body, not feeling the coldness of the water.

When she had done what she could, Alyna stretched her mind to touch three other minds she sensed nearby. Almost gently, she called for them, and her vassals came to her aid. As the Lich King did to her, she had done to them through her vampiric curse. Because of her, they had no free will, and they served her absolutely through her direct connection to them. They were not his to command. They were hers, and only hers. If she hadn’t brought them into her service, then they would be Scourge anyway. She would keep them for a while, and then let them go to their true deaths. The only true benefit they had was that they would remain dead, protected from the magic of necromancy by her curse.

She lowered her wings for them, and they dutifully scrubbed them clean of the guts she had managed to splatter them with. When they were done, she had them dress her in fresh garments. She dismissed them, and watched them leave. She envied them. One day soon, when she released them, their souls would know peace. That was something forever beyond her.

She pulled her mask up over her lower face and left her quarters for a walk around her necropolis.

As she strolled through her domain, she felt his presence immediately as it crashed over her, causing her to pause in her stride. The Lich King had arrived via a death gate portal from Northrend. Those around her had also paused in their movements as they felt his arrival before going about their tasks again.

_Come to me._

His words appeared in her mind, drowning out any other thought. During his five years of physical slumber, he had communicated with them all telepathically and could do so no matter where they were in the world. It was a habit he maintained with them even when they faced him. His body had been encased in ice as he slept on his Frozen Throne, but everything else about him had been very active indeed, including his considerable magical power. An involuntary shiver passed through her body at the atrocities he had still managed to inflict on her soul even after he was wrapped in ice. She had tried to resist his control, and he had punished her for it, even toyed with her for his amusement. He had won, in the end. He always did. She knew that now.

He sent her a mental image of the staging platform she found Mograine at a few days ago, and she went to him. When she found him, his back was to her as he surveyed the valley below. His dark armour seemed to absorb all light that fell on it, and his very presence caused the air to be heavy, pressing down on her shoulders ominously. His spiked helm hid most of his features, but his piercing blues eyes were unmissable: Arthas, the fallen prince, now Lich King.

The creature that had originally been the Lich King had begun to weaken over five years ago. He had summoned his greatest champion to his side, and Arthas had come to him like an obedient dog. He had arrived in Icecrown just in time to defend the Lich King from an army of elves. Afterwards, he and done what Alyna still thought had been unthinkable – he had ascended the Frozen Throne, and merged with the being atop it to become the new, far deadlier, Lich King.

She moved to stand beside him and very slightly behind, in deference to his authority. His voice appeared unbidden in her mind. She was his; he needed no permission.

_You have served me well, Alyna._

She inclined her head briefly to acknowledge his words. Some may have thanked him verbally, but they both knew his gratitude did not please her. She served because she had to, and she did so to the best of her ability because he had eventually removed even that choice from her.

He reached his gauntleted hand out to indicate the Scarlet Enclave, and then clenched it with enough emotion to make his fist shake. _It is time._

She followed his gaze. She knew exactly what he meant, having been told of his plan before she left Northrend. The members of the Scarlet Crusade looked insignificant from this height, busily going about their mortal chores. Insignificant, but numerous.

“It will take time, my Lord.”

He drew Frostmourne from his back and held it straight out before him. She could feel the power radiating from it as a light blue ribbon of necromantic magic crawled up the length of the runeblade from its point to the hilt. Demonic runes etched into the blade flared to life at his silent command.

She dimly heard a terrifying roar some way above her head, and looked up to see the source. It remained high in the sky to avoid detection by the humans, but her enhanced sight told her all she needed to know. He had summoned a formidable frost wyrm, a giant undead dragon pieced together from the bones of numerous carcasses and then reanimated. A single breath of frost from its lethal jaws could kill dozens. It made the slaughter of thousands a matter of hours instead of days.

The wyrm flew off to hide in the mountains to the north, and the Lich King lowered Frostmourne.

 _Begin the assault on the Scarlet Enclave. Burn the mark of the Scourge into these lands. Reap death and destruction in my name!_ He paused. _Once enough damage has been done, they will bring their armies to face you, and they will make their final stand. For them, there is no escape ... no choice. And for this reason they will fight with a ferocity that you have yet to witness._

He turned to face her, and she felt the intensity of his glowing blue stare pour through her own eyes to wrap his hatred around what was left of her tortured soul.

_You will deliver these armies to me and I will raise them for the assault on Light’s Hope Chapel. No longer will this affront to your master be allowed to exist!_

Alyna bowed her head, partly to acknowledge his orders, but also to break the eye contact that so unsettled her.

_Do not fail me, Alyna._

“I will serve, my Lord.”

His low, evil chuckle would have made her blood freeze, if she’d had any.

_Yes, you will._


	3. Chapter 3

Dark Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, watched Ambassador Sunsorrow leave her throne room, having dismissed him. She sat alone on her throne, the day’s administrative duties now over. She noticed he did not leave her presence as quickly as he used to. Perhaps he was finally adapting to her … condition. She knew her state of undeath was deeply disturbing to most sin’dorei, the blood elves – the name her former people had adopted for themselves after the fall of Quel’Thalas to the Scourge six years ago. Her walking, talking corpse reminded them of what once was, and the terrible price that had been paid, by both her personally, and others.

_Others, like Alyna._

She dug her gauntleted fingers into the hard wood surface of her throne, the anger and pain not dulled by the passage of time. She wore similar armour in undeath as to what she had in life, with more sculls and fewer references to nature, in dull, dark red and black colours. As in life, she still preferred to wear a hood and cloak, her pale silver-blonde hair worn loosely underneath. Her skin was characteristic of the elven undead, a light grey-blue with signs of wear where her skin threatened to flake. Unlike most of the Forsaken, she did not suffer the constant progression of decomposition they dealt with daily. None of the undead elves did. She had been told it had something to do with how the necromantic energies that raised them interacted with the innate magic all elves possessed that humans didn’t. If there was anything to be grateful for in her existence, it was that. Her glowing red eyes flashed in anger at the mere concept of being grateful for anything relating to her situation.

Her thoughts wandered, and she traced the notches and grooves of her bow with a leather-clad finger. It was never far from her, and she was proud of its unique construction. No one else used a bow that had limbs made from vertebrae bone. They were not human, of course; those had been too small. But, she quietly enjoyed the reaction it got from the living races, and she knew they all wondered if those bones were from their people.

Her nose wrinkled as the last of the ambassador’s sweaty scent dispersed in his wake. She had been instrumental in bringing the blood elves into the new Horde; a coalition between a tribe of jungle trolls, the remaining orcs, the bull-like Tauren, and the free-willed undead remnants of Lordaeron now known as the Forsaken.

The Forsaken … her people. After failing in her attempt to go after Alyna, she had returned to Capital City. After confronting the demons and chasing them off, the free-willed undead humans had been leaderless, and lost. She realised they could be useful in her vendetta against Arthas, and had begun to organise them. They dug through the sewers under the former capital and vastly expanded them to create their new home, Undercity, where she sat now.

Despite no longer being under his control, she had felt the moment Arthas had become the Lich King. A part of her soul still resided in Frostmourne, and she felt its presence lingering almost imperceptibly at the back of her mind. She had no idea how it had happened, or why, but that presence changed and became as familiar as the Lich King’s presence had been, and she just knew what he had done. But nothing happened. No giant wave of Scourge washed over them, no enraged death knight turned up on her doorstep to pull her back into the fold.

A few months ago, after being almost indistinguishable from the background noise of her own thoughts for five years, that presence became stronger. It was nowhere near strong enough to threaten her free will, and she believed that even if she stood in his presence he could not control her anymore. She had felt that link break, and she figured he would need to kill her again with Frostmourne to re-establish it. Whatever he had been doing all that time, she instantly knew he was finished and about to remerge into the world.

They were not ready.

She knew they were all in trouble if they did not act, but the other leaders of the Horde had been stubborn. All they had to go on was her ‘feeling’ that he was now active, and they did not believe her, thinking her lust for vengeance was driving her to be reckless.

They were partially right; she craved vengeance for what had been done to her. Though she had managed to reclaim her body, she was still a banshee. Still dead. Her soul was tormented by anger, hatred and the need for revenge. There would be no happiness or comfort for her in this world ever again, such was the nature of being a banshee. While she had accepted it, and even embraced it, she would never stop until the creature who created her was suffering in whatever hellish afterlife she hoped waited for him.

Her eyes caught sight of a dull metal bowl near the edge of the dais her throne was on. A petitioner had brought it as an offering, and she gazed at the thin twigs of incense inside it. Some of her people used the special ‘sleep sticks’ to attain a state similar to sleep. It was really a deep meditation, but some enjoyed it as it allowed them to keep a cycle similar to what they had in life.

She had tried it a few times, but found her mind always wandered to Alyna, no matter what she tried. They were never pleasant thoughts either, her mind determined to relive the long hours she had been forced to watch her former fiancée being ravaged by the human cultists. Over the years, she had pushed past her romantic feelings for the woman as hanging onto them would have driven her insane. She had her memories, but she no longer recalled the love she felt, and believed herself incapable of ever loving again. To be the instrument of Arthas’ demise, she had purged herself of every possible emotion and concept that could prevent her from achieving her goal. Despite that, the ‘dreams’ still disturbed her. She tried to tell herself that it was because of the helplessness she felt and that she never wanted to be that powerless again, but a small voice at the back of her mind just chuckled knowingly.

She tried to ignore it, even now.

She slammed her fists down on the arms of her throne before rising to pace the stone dais. She felt a banshee scream rise inside her and she fought to control it. While there was no one close enough to be hurt by it if she let it loose, it would be heard across her capital, the Undercity, and it would not do for everyone to be made aware of her loss of control. Or her anguish.

After her failed attempt to sail to Northrend, she had planned to give up, but she had not been able to immediately. She had sent her dark rangers out to scout along the coast for any vessel that was seaworthy and capable of sailing to Northrend, but they had repeatedly returned empty handed. She had tried to organise her Forsaken into building a ship, but they had come under constant attack by feral undead, and the newly founded Scarlet Crusade, the latter unwilling to admit to there was any difference between the Scourge and the Forsaken. She had eventually been forced to stop wasting resources by her advisors and ranger captains to focus on more immediate threats. She completely gave in to her grief and rage, taking it out on anyone and everyone. And then she had buried any semblance of love she had ever felt, and got on with plotting her revenge as well as dealing with the various events the world of Azeroth had thrown at her.

She heard footsteps enter the throne room and she whirled on whoever was intruding. She had finished taking petitioners for the day and was in no mood for company.

She narrowed her eyes when she saw the rotting head of her army, Grand Executor Dillard. His glowing yellow eye sockets were typical of the Forsaken. His plate armour sounded tinny as it connected with exposed bone in various parts of his body. Rotting flesh still adhered in places, and, on closer inspection, she thought he had a new jaw bone. He stood to attention and saluted, a pair of maggots falling out of his gauntlet onto the floor.

“My humblest apologies for disturbing you, my Queen, but I have news from the Eastern Plaguelands that cannot wait.”

“What is it?” she snapped, her voice reverberating with the grating undertones of death.

Un-phased by her mood, he said, “Our spies have reported that the Scarlet Crusade stationed there are … no more.”

“ _What?_ ” she screeched. Ordinarily, news of a mortal enemy’s demise would have left her cold heart overjoyed, but whatever had happened, it was not as a result of her actions and that was not a good sign.

“A dozen ships were sighted leaving the coast, heading north.”

She quickly did the math. “That’s just over a thousand of their people, at most. What about the rest of them?”

Now the grand executor looked visibly uncomfortable. “Th-they are Scourge.”

“ _All_ of them?”

“Yes, my Queen. It would appear the death knights had been holding back all this time we have observed them, and finally unleashed their full force a couple of days ago. There were also vague reports of a frost wyrm involved too, though I doubt that’s possible so far away from Northrend.”

She stared at him, too stunned to speak. The Scarlet Enclave had been a fortified bastion for the crazed order for years. Even _she_ had not dared a direct assault, preferring other means to accomplish her goals.

“How many?” she demanded.

He hesitated.

She gritted her teeth, her voice low and dangerous. “How. Many?”

“Early estimates put their new army at nine thousand, possibly more. Four hundred are death knights.”

The numbers were staggering. She only had a few hundred soldiers in Undercity, perhaps two thousand throughout her territories, and they would take time to recall. Her mind raced as she calculated possibilities and scenarios.

“Do we know where they are heading yet?”

“It would appear their next target is Light’s Hope Chapel.”

That did not surprise her. After the Scarlet Crusade, the group that operated out of the chapel would be equally as vexing for the Scourge. The Argent Dawn were just as fanatical against the Scourge. Unlike the crusade, they were capable of differentiating between the Scourge and the Forsaken, something that gave Sylvanas a grudging respect for them and so she left them alone.

“How did they raise so many …” She stopped. There was only one way the Scourge could raise so many corpses so quickly. She answered her own question, barely above a whisper.

“Arthas.”

He was here, physically here, and only a week’s march from Undercity. Any mortal army would take nearly two, but the dead had no need for rest, food or water. They would come in fearless waves, and they were still not ready.

“When they’re done with the Argent Dawn, you can bet they’re coming for us.” She was not the only one who could hold bitter grudges. Arthas would come for them. For _her_. She resisted the urge to shake her head in disbelief as she began to rattle off orders.

“Recall everyone you can find. Begin preparations for a siege. Seal the sewers and the elevator shafts. The living residents and visitors have twenty-four hours to decide if they want to stay and fight, or leave. Everyone will need equipment. I want a battle plan by tomorrow.” It went without saying that no Forsaken, civilian or otherwise, would be allowed to leave. They needed everyone, and they all knew their duty. It was part of being Forsaken.

As Undercity was built beneath the ruined capital city of Lordaeron they were well fortified, but even they could not hold out forever against the numbers coming for them. Sylvanas almost sighed with the resignation that they could not face her hated enemy alone. She swallowed her pride.

“Send emissaries to the rest of the Horde leaders.” She practically spat her next words. “We … respectfully … request they send any and all assistance.”

They would possibly get a few hundred more defenders from the Horde already stationed on the continent, but most were on Kalimdor, a week away at sea at least, _if_ they left immediately, which was impossible. Mage portals would not be an option for the numbers and materials required.

He bowed deeply. “Yes, my Queen.”

He turned to leave, knowing he had been dismissed. Something occurred to her as he was about to disappear through the great doors that led into her throne room.

“Dillard.” She said his name almost gently, knowing her voice would carry to be heard anywhere in the room.

He whirled round to face her, not sure what to expect. “Yes, my Lady?”

“You said ‘two days’.” She let that register with him. “The Enclave was attacked, and risen, two days ago.”

 “Yes, my Lady.”

“Why am I only just hearing about this now?” She paused to watch him. He had no eyes, but she knew he was looking everywhere but directly at her. “I told you to make sure they had mages for rapid reporting.” Her red eyes bore into him, having no need to blink.

“Ah.” He was nervous. “Well, she met her true death shortly before the attack. An unfortunate incident with a gargoyle, I believe. The nearest mage available for a portal was two days away.”

“I see.” Her tone made it clear to him she did not. “We lost _two days_ of preparation because _you_ saw fit to only send _one_ mage with them, despite the importance of their mission?” Her voice rose with each word until she was yelling at him.

“Ah, well … uh … my Queen, there was …”

“Get out!” He fell over himself trying to leave quickly. She picked up her bow and buried an arrow in the solid oak door as the grand executor opened it, landing so close to his head she knew he felt its wake. He flinched, knowing full well if she had intended to hit him she would have. It was a warning. He closed the door behind him, the arrow still quivering.

She released the banshee scream that had been building, this time fuelled by rage instead of pain. She felt it reverberate back at her off the walls of the throne room and was oddly satisfied at its power. Once she had calmed to her usual heated simmer, she stepped down from the dais and navigated through a short corridor hidden behind a banner at the back of her throne room that led to her office.

She hoped the Argent Dawn defenders at the chapel would hold out longer than she expected them to, and buy her people time to get ready. She didn’t care if it cost them their lives.

* * *

Alyna stood on the staging platform, her gaze cast in the direction of Light’s Hope Chapel. As good as her sight was, even she couldn’t look through the very solid mountain peaks that separated her from the action.

She was anxious.

She had sent ten thousand Scourge against the three hundred defenders. Despite the overwhelming odds, she was not confident of victory. Mograine had not overtly disagreed with her when she told him their orders, but she could feel his objection, and ignored it. The Lich King would be obeyed. He would be _very_ displeased if she failed him.

She felt the urge to sigh, despite not needing to breathe. She was already mentally preparing herself for her lord’s displeasure. The Chapel stood on holy ground. Beneath, in the extensive catacombs, were the bodies of a thousand fallen heroes of the Light. The Lich King had commanded her to capture those bodies so they could be raised as powerful agents of the Scourge. It was no simple task. The very nature of the Light was the complete antithesis of what the Scourge were. Just standing on holy ground was painful, even for Alyna. To lesser, mindless Scourge, it could incinerate them on the spot, which was why she had needed to raise so many new death knights. They were powerful enough to fight on holy ground, and hopefully slay the defenders.

She had been ordered not to take part in the battle herself, and thus she waited from afar. She did not particularly care whether she was involved or not. She just hated waiting for information. She only had herself to blame, really. The last time she had stepped on holy ground she had been weak from not feeding properly. The Light had overwhelmed her and she had perished. The Lich King had reanimated her and then punished her severely for her mistake. Still, she was not going to argue. While her death knights revelled in the taking of life, she still only killed mortals when it was necessary. It had nothing to do with conscience as that had been removed from her with the part of her soul containing her softer emotions; it was just a waste of effort to kill when she could be doing something else.

Alyna turned to move inside when a sudden wave of sensation caused her to stagger slightly in surprise before she regained her balance. She blinked, and tried to identify what she had felt. Slowly, she realised it was what she didn’t feel that was more important. She couldn’t feel _him_ anymore. For so many long years he had been constantly there as an intrinsic part of her being. Even when he was focused on other things and very far away, she had felt his presence in her mind as a constant, lingering reminder that at a whim, he could do what he wished with her, and to her.

Now, there was nothing.

She felt empty where he had been. It was s yawning, dark, and foreboding void. Questions flooded her mind. _What was going on? Why? How had this happened? Was it permanent? Was it real? Was he playing with her again? What did it mean? Did she dare hope she was free?_

_Had he been killed?_

She hurried into the necropolis and stopped at what she saw. Chaos reigned over what had been ordered obedience. She realised it was not just her who could no longer hear the call of the Lich King. Every Scourge creature was loose, and wild. Most Scourge were simple-minded creatures, inherently violent and bloodthirsty. The Lich King’s presence in all of them had allowed more intelligent Scourge such as Alyna to project their will to less powerful Scourge to control them, as he did to them. Without the connection their king provided, they had returned to their base instincts and were tearing each other apart. She no longer had any control over them, just as it dawned on her that the Lich King had no more control over her.

_She was free!_

She instantly began to feel overwhelmed by the desire to escape this hell she had endured for so long. An abomination roared and she found herself dodging the hooked chain it threw in her direction. She drew on her magic and threw a ball of shadowflame at the hideous creature. Insensitive to pain, it did not immediately stop it from attacking her, but her attack slowed it down enough for her to keep casting more dark flames until it was practically melting into fat on the floor.

Methodically, Alyna worked her way through the necropolis to the main portal chamber, destroying anything that dared to attack her. She figured if she could teleport to the ground, she could escape and do as she pleased. She had no inclination to stay and find out what had happened, let alone fix it.

When she arrived, her vassals were there waiting for her. She had summoned them there as she moved, her control over them still possible through her curse. She was surprised to find they had survived their journey. No longer having any use for them, she set them on fire to kill them. They died quickly, her shadowflame burning hotly. Without a second thought, she moved to the control orb, but before she could set it to teleport her to the ground, the platform activated. Not having any idea what was about to arrive, she stood back from the platform. She held her hands outstretched from her body, balls of shadowflame churning eagerly above her palms.

Darion Mograine materialised, standing before a row of five death knights. He held a glowing sword in his hands, ready for battle, and she quickly realised it was not the Ashbringer he had held for so long.

Their eyes met, but neither of them moved for long moments. The sounds of battle and slaughter could be heard even here, but Alyna did not know whether he had been sent here to regain control of the Acherus for the Lich King or not.

“You’re home early, Highlord,” she opened.

“Yes,” he replied, “Things at Light’s Hope did not quite go as planned, your _Highness_.” There was something about the way he used the title that struck a chord with Alyna; he was testing her. If he was free as well, and she replied as a blood princess, he would kill her. If he was still in Arthas’ clutches and she denounced her position, he would kill her. She realised it did not matter where his loyalties lay. If he was still enslaved, she would be reanimated again and punished, and her unlife would go on. If he was free and she pretended otherwise, she would die and remain so.

She decided that if she was to die in the next few moments, even temporarily, she wanted to die free.

She smiled slowly, though with her mask in place it was only obvious by the slight creasing around her eyes. “It’s just ‘Alyna’ now.”

Eventually, Mograine smiled and lowered his sword. Alyna dispelled the flames and relaxed her posture. “Then I am Darion, to you.” He looked around slowly, absorbing the sounds coming from all around them. “You should know I intend to claim Acherus as a home for the Knights of the Ebon Blade.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You have more free knights?” He nodded. She wondered what that meant for them. She had no idea what she was going to do once she was out of here, but she also knew she was alone. The death knights would have each other. She felt a small pang of loneliness inside herself at the thought.

To Darion, she shrugged. “You can have it.”

He looked at her carefully. “You do not intend to stay?”

She laughed hollowly. “Why would I do that? I am alone, Darion. And we both know I cannot stay if you return with free-willed death knights.”

His reaction told her he knew. Most of the death knights despised her and that would not change because they had their free will back. If anything, it would give their hatred free reign and she would be a convenient target. It was better for all of them if she left. Mograine moved off the platform with his knights, and she took their place.

She nodded towards the orb. “Would you kindly do the honours?”

He hesitated. “What will you do?”

“Kill the Scourge,” she immediately replied.

He nodded, fully understanding. “And, Arthas?”

“He is alive then?” She knew she sounded disappointed.

“Regrettably. The paladin, Tirion Fordring, appeared at the Chapel.” His light blue glowing eyes flared with hatred. “Arthas sent us all there to die, Alyna. All he wanted was for Tirion to appear; he had no interest in the heroes beneath.” He growled. “I threw the Ashbringer to the human and it was cleansed in his hands. When he attacked Arthas, he managed to hurt him quite badly. We were freed at that moment, and I suspect so were you at the same time. The bastard managed to escape after that.”

Alyna processed the events before accepting them as plausible.

He assessed her quietly before saying, “I’m sure you’ll find allies somehow. Regardless, when we go to confront him, I will send word to you so you may join us in his downfall. We will both have our vengeance.”

She was not sure what to make of his confidence. He was so assured that he would take on Arthas directly. Something inside her even believed he might actually get as far as Icecrown Citadel itself, though she thought it unlikely. Still, if he somehow did manage it, she definitely wanted to be there. She graciously accepted his offer, and prepared to leave, before pausing.

“Perhaps, there is one thing you could do for me now, Darion, if you would?”

His curiosity was immediately peaked, and when she made her request, he laughed with dark delight at her.

“I would be happy to oblige with such a service,” and then he added two words she had not heard in a long, long time, “my friend.”

After he was done, she teleported down to see what new existence she could carve for herself.


	4. Chapter 4

The male elf before Sylvanas was just as dead as she was, but his eyes glowed the familiar cerulean blue of a death knight. Six years ago, Koltira had been one of her Farstriders and she had seen him die at the Elfgate. The deep seated guilt she still felt for her rangers’ deaths, but never admitted to having, was the only reason he had made it to stand before her. That, and the fantastic tale he had purported to have of the Scourge in the east having regained their free will.

He had just finished telling her about how the Knights of the Ebon Blade had cleared the necropolis called Acherus, and was waiting for her response. She had opted to stand through his story, wanting the physical advantage of being able to look down on him. She took her time to absorb his words.

“So this ‘highlord’ of yours controls Acherus, and plans to do what with it, exactly?”

“Highlord Mograine plans to train any knights who wish to remain with him to eventually assault Icecrown Citadel to kill the Lich King,” he replied bluntly.

“And this citadel is where the Lich King is now?”

Koltira smiled slowly. “Who knows where he is right now, my Lady? But, that is where the Frozen Throne is, and that is where his power lies. He will always return there, and that is where we must defeat him to end his reign forever.”

“You mentioned someone else earlier who commanded your highlord and the rest of the Scourge forces in the area. Was she slain by your knights in the taking of Acherus?” Sylvanas had already known of the female creature that ruled the Scourge in the plaguelands, but little else had been known about her. She had been sighted rarely, and always too deep into Scourge territory for a good look. If she hadn't had large wings she would have blended in entirely, so Sylvanas was told.

The death knight hesitated, which immediately put Sylvanas on alert. He had been very forthcoming so far.

“There was no need for her to meet her true death, Lady Sylvanas. She had also regained her free will and met us as we teleported in. She did not stay long.”

The Banshee Queen was curious. “You let her go? Why?”

Koltira shrugged. “Like us, she had been under the Lich King’s control. When she didn’t kill us the first moment she could, the Highlord decided to allow her to leave peacefully.”

Sylvanas let her ire show. “I assume you have no idea where she is then?” She did not like the sound of a powerful former Scourge roaming her lands.

Koltira’s blue eyes narrowed as he looked at Sylvanas. “You don’t know, do you?”

Sylvanas, never one to take being at a disadvantage lightly, snapped her reply. “I don’t know what? I don’t play games, death knight.”

His answer was slow, and measured. “If I were to hazard a guess, I would say she is making her way here, if she hasn’t already arrived.” Sylvanas gave him a withering glare, and he understood that if she had to prompt him again she would not be kind about it. “Our commander, Lady Sylvanas, was Alyna Darkfury, formerly your —”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, nor did he see Sylvanas coming. She had moved too fast for him to dodge, and her strike had been vicious. He now looked up at her from the floor, his jaw at an odd angle and features staring up at her with dumb shock.

“You didn’t think to mention this at the _start?!_ ” she screamed at him.

He tried to speak through his broken jaw, “Thought … you … knew!”

She wanted to hit him again, but managed to restrain herself. She growled at him before snapping at a nearby royal dreadguard to fetch a healer. She paced the throne room as they waited for the priest, who then healed the death knight’s jaw with a shadow-based spell. Despite being dead, he still required the aid in healing. Unlike the living, the undead were unable to heal naturally anymore. While not necessarily in pain, or normally at risk of true death, if they wished to regain normal mobility they required healing magic. There were a few injuries that could kill an undead eventually if not healed, but these were few.

When the priest left, Sylvanas stepped down off the dais and walked slowly towards Koltira, halting a few paces away. She could see his nerves.

Her voice was low and threatening as she glared at him, “Tell. Me. _Everything_.”

He knew she was referring to Alyna. “There is not much I can tell you, Dark Lady.” He flinched as she took a menacing step closer. “The Lich King either kept her close, or sent her to distant areas of Icecrown.” He shook his head in a manner that appeared sad. “I don’t know what she was told to do; that was always beyond my rank. All I know are rumours, my Lady, and we both know what those can be like.”

Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed at the vague reference to the rumours she and Alyna had to cope with about their relationship while they were alive. Some had indeed got out of control.

“Try me.”

He looked around, conscious of the guards that surrounded him. “The Lich King used her as an example of what could happen if we disobeyed.” He obviously shuddered at what that had entailed, and Sylvanas felt a cold anger grow inside her. “But when she did his bidding, she was brutal, ruthless, and efficient. He would then hold her as an example of what we should aspire to be. She was raised above almost all other Scourge, but when she failed him she was always punished in ways most of us cannot imagine and would do everything to avoid.”

Sylvanas pressed her teeth together in an effort to not lash out at the messenger, again. It had nothing to do with caring about his health, and everything to do with him being unable to be useful to her if she expedited his true death.

Her silence had made him edgy. “The best person to tell you about what happened to Alyna, my Lady, is Alyna herself.”

She knew he was right. She also needed time to think. She did not love Alyna, not being capable of that particular emotion anymore, but her intense reaction to knowing Alyna could be so close had unsettled her. Her gut was telling her to send out her dark rangers to look for Alyna, but she wanted to consider how to react once she was found. Sylvanas knew how much she had changed in six years, and could only imagine how Alyna’s ordeal had changed her. Would Alyna want contact with Sylvanas? Would she be angry or bitter? Would she want revenge? Sylvanas had to consider all possible outcomes before initiating contact.

She finally gave Koltira a brief nod before she stepped back onto the dais to stand before her throne.

“What are your plans now, Koltira?” Her voice was deceptively calm.

He pulled himself up. “I wish to pledge myself to my people again, and therefore the Horde.”

Sylvanas gestured to a guard. “I will have you escorted to the translocation orb. It will take you to Silvermoon.”

“With respect, my Lady; I consider the Forsaken to be my people now.”

Sylvanas was rarely speechless. After a few moments, she managed, “Why?”

“I have no living blood relatives left, and my king is dead. _You_ were my ranger general, and your dark rangers were as family to me within the Farstriders. Like the Forsaken, I am dead. There is no comfort for me amongst the living, but there can perhaps be satisfaction here.” He formally knelt before her. “My sword and abilities are yours, if you wish it, Lady Sylvanas.”

She took in his form with her red eyes, and saw no deception. They both knew she would keep a close eye on him. His willingness to submit to her rule despite knowing that he would be watched was enough for her to accept his offer, for now.

“I accept.” She nodded at the guard who had stepped forward for the original escort mission. “You will be taken to an area where you can choose lodgings. You don’t have to, of course, but most have asked for some kind of personal space. I shall have to think on how to use you, but you will hear from me soon.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “Until then, keep to yourself. Not all Forsaken will readily welcome you.”

He rose to his feet, and bowed deeply. “Thank you, my Lady.” He appeared to want to say something else so she nodded her permission, and he continued. “There are other death knights who wish to join the Horde, and some may be interested in pledging to you directly. What would you have me tell them?”

She took a moment to consider the situation. “I will hear their pledges, but I make no promises. It will be up to them to impress upon me their desire to follow the Forsaken way.”

“I shall convey your words, Dark Lady.”

She dismissed him, and she was left alone with her thoughts as she gestured for the guards to leave her alone. She left the throne room for her office, and initially found herself unable to decide what to do. The possibility of seeing Alyna again had thrown her and she wanted to know why. Just how dangerous was Alyna? She had been renamed ‘Darkfury’ and Sylvanas wondered if that was a warning to remain clear of her former lover.

Or would the Banshee Queen have to have the rogue former Scourge hunted and put down for their own safety? Could Sylvanas do that? She knew if it was anyone else she could without a second thought. Alyna was making her pause, and that was dangerous. Perhaps that was what unsettled her.

She sat at her desk and removed her gauntlets. On her left hand, she still wore the wedding ring that had never seen a wedding. Normally, she didn't feel anything when she looked at it. No rush of love, or hope, and the fewer memories she relived of her former life, the better. This time, she felt something unexpected … loneliness. She was a queen with no equal. She was utterly alone in everything she did, and had been since her death. Alyna could not be her equal, but perhaps she was far enough above the rest that she could be trusted to confide in, eventually.

Sylvanas brushed her thoughts away, disgusted at her weakness. How could she be wanting a friend after all this time? It was ridiculous. She was the Banshee Queen, not an insecure adolescent. She also had work to do.

She shuffled through the parchment on her desk and pulled a few out that required her attention. She would need to send orders out to her troops to keep an eye out for free-willed former Scourge, and with the Scourge army decimated at Light’s Hope she could stand down the state of emergency her people were currently maintaining.

She tried to focus on the mundane but necessary work, but after breaking a second nib for her quill she threw the rebellious implement down onto the desk. She grabbed her gauntlets and stood suddenly, leaving the office. She passed through the throne room and up the main entryway to the royal quarter. Guards lined the corridor and they all snapped to attention as she passed. She did not acknowledge them.

Before she left the royal quarter she paused. Sylvanas drew the shadows in around her, the dark ranger ability coming as naturally to her as breathing had in life. Anyone watching would have seen her disappear. She moved swiftly through Undercity towards the war quarter where the dark ranger barracks were located. She could have summoned them to her office, but that would take time and her impatience had got the better of her.

All of her dark rangers were banshees, like herself, who had reclaimed their bodies. Most were former quel’dorei Farstriders who had served under her command when they had still breathed. As banshees, they were all female. Arthas had used the male elves as physical combat troops, so only women had shared Sylvanas’ fate as far as she knew. Following Sylvanas’ example and teachings, they had twisted their natural talents from those of the wild to that of shadow. She trusted them more than most – which wasn't much more as she did not trust anyone as a rule – and she now required their skills in tracking, discretion, and stealth for their next mission: to find Alyna.

There was another reason she preferred their use; Alyna had been one of them in life. Unlike the formerly human Forsaken, they knew who to look for. She figured if someone she had known found her she would perhaps listen first instead of attack.

As soon as Sylvanas entered the barracks, she dropped her stealth, materialising before a pair of surprised rangers. Without prompting, they immediately went in search of their captain, who commanded the company based in the city. It was currently one of three companies, though Sylvanas was interested in expanding once she figured out how to recruit more female undead elves.

“Lady Sylvanas,” came a sharp female voice, “how may we serve?”

Sylvanas turned to regard Ranger Captain Talnia who had appeared through a side door. Talnia smiled coyly, her own red eyes meeting Sylvanas’ evenly.

The Dark Lady did not return the smile. “I want you to send search teams out through the Tirisfal Glades and into the western plaguelands.”

Talnia nodded, the order not being entirely unusual. “Who or what are we looking for?”

“Alyna.”

The single word wiped the smile off of Talnia’s face and Sylvanas could not help but enjoy the reaction. Not giving her captain any chance to ask pointless questions, she gave Talnia detailed orders and sent the obviously irked banshee on her way.

Sylvanas was left alone with her nerves.

* * *

 

Alyna stalked silently through the trees, using an altered form of shadow magic to dampen any quiet sound she may accidentally make. She had found some supple dark leather armour on a fresh corpse that was roughly her size back on Acherus, and was quite pleased with the fit. After equipping herself with a bow and quiver, she had left the floating necropolis to Mograine and his death knights. She had her magic, but the bow reassured her somehow. It felt more natural to her. Anyone she ran into would also assume she was a hunter.

She rolled her shoulders slowly, and felt a crusted substance that covered her upper back crack and crumble with the movement. She silently berated herself. It had been two weeks since she had left Acherus, and therefore two weeks since Mograine had hacked off her wings at her request. Thick black ichor had wept from the two long stubs just inside her shoulder blades, her undead equivalent of blood. She should have immediately sought a healer to seal the wounds, but had been too eager to leave. Though the ichor would normally harden to cap the flow, the wounds were constantly reopening, and would continue to do so until she found someone to heal them. Ordinarily, she could heal most wounds she sustained by herself, but not one as catastrophic as what essentially concerned missing limbs. She was not in pain, exactly, but she felt a constant dull ache.

As she approached a gap in the trees of the wooded area she was crossing, she tugged her hood down as far as she could, her elven ears poking through two slits she had made in the sides. She could not hide her race, but she had tried to hide her undead nature. The colourful mask she had worn on Acherus had also been replaced by a plain black one, predominantly to hide her elongated eyeteeth. Neither measure would fool anyone if they got too close, but from a distance it had worked perfectly.

She had managed to travel from Acherus in the far east all the way through the plaguelands into the Tirisfal Glades, subconsciously following a similar path to that she had taken with the Alliance army two decades ago. There had been plenty of undead along the way, and she had left behind smouldering piles of ash as she encountered each group. Destroying them had brought her a simple solace. She had also been attacked by a Scarlet Crusade patrol. She had thought them all gone, but it would appear there were still pockets of them left. She had not wanted to kill humans, but they had left her little choice. She felt no remorse for it; she just felt it a waste. All would be needed to fight Arthas, and now there were five fewer to fight him.

She had no real goal in mind other than to figure out a way to get back at Arthas, but she had felt drawn westwards into the Tirisfal Glades. A small voice at the back of her mind quietly chuckled and she quashed it. She knew what it wanted to suggest to her, and she didn’t want to hear it.

Alyna paused just inside the treeline as she could see a small group of humans huddled together around the light of a campfire. They had made camp in a clearing. Her vision blurred slightly as a powerful urge threatened to overwhelm her control. She was starving, again, having not fed since she left Acherus. For reasons even she did not understand, she had resisted feeding on the scarlet patrol that had attacked her, and now she was feeling the repercussions. Maintaining her dampening field had taken its toll on her magically, and she was exhausted.

It was time to feed.

She looked at the humans impassively. They appeared to be herders, though she could not immediately see where their animals were. There were three men, and two women, all simply dressed. Alyna loaded her bow, and fired at the largest male, piercing him neatly through his eye. As the others stared at his falling body, she placed her next arrow through the throat of another male. The other three were starting to move now in an attempt to find cover, but they were too late. Alyna focused on making sure they could not run by firing arrows into their legs – she would need these three alive.

As she strolled out of the trees, she gave the humans some credit. Despite being unable to run, they were trying to pull themselves away from her. One tried brandishing a knife at her, and she disarmed that particular female easily. She approached each of them in turn and knocked them unconscious with a swing of her bow. She knew her feeding process was painful, and saw no reason to make them suffer through it. Besides, she hated the struggling as it slowed her down.

She knelt beside the last living male and tugged down her mask, exposing her eyeteeth. She cradled him easily and buried her fangs into the side of his neck, piercing the carotid artery. At first, his beating heart did her work for her, spilling his life into her mouth. As his body and heart weakened, she began to suck. She placed a hand on his chest and a dark glow emanated from her palm. It pulsed energy into his body, keeping his heart beating longer than it should have so she could get as much out of him as possible.

A different, more primal hunger now threatened to take over her actions as she drained him. She drew her energy through the lifeblood of others, but the most potent and powerful source of power she had access to was via consuming souls. It was an ability that made the others of her artificial race formidable as they could tear souls right out of people. She felt the desire to do just that, but the thought also sickened her – eating souls, and depriving their owners of an afterlife, made her too much like the Lich King she had been forced to serve.

She pulled her hand away from the man’s chest, and felt him die instantly in her arms. She placed him almost tenderly onto the ground and closed her eyes, trying to control her urges. She was still hungry, but would not move to feed on the women until she knew she would leave their souls alone. It took her a few minutes to calm herself, but she was proud of her restraint. She was free now; she could be her own woman.

Her own very dead woman.

She felt her anger grow, and it helped her keep the urges at bay as she fed on the women, doing so as quickly as she was able. When she was done, she laid all the bodies around the campfire. She removed the arrows from their bodies so as to not leave any evidence, and then set them alight using a nearby stick and the campfire. She was under no illusion that anyone would believe this was an accident, but she couldn’t afford for the local population to start a vampire hunt for her.

She turned to continue west but stopped as a cloaked figure stepped out from the trees before her. Instinctively, she wanted to cast a shadowflame ball but restrained herself when she saw slender elven ears poking through the newcomer’s hood. She realised the female figure had wanted Alyna to see her, and she approached slowly, her own bow slung across her back.

Alyna recognised the deadly grace of a fellow ranger. When she figured the woman had got close enough, Alyna held up her hand. Obediently, the ranger stopped. Alyna could just about make out a smile appearing slowly on what she knew to be dead skin.

“Greetings, sister,” came a familiar voice now tinged with the grating undertone of death.

Alyna tilted her head, trying to place the voice. “Cyndia?” she asked cautiously.

A low chuckle came from the ranger. “Indeed. It has been a long time.” Alyna had never been particularly close to Cyndia Hawkspear, but the woman’s father had been a good friend, and her senior lieutenant. She had served in a different company, so they had only really seen each other when she had visited her father. She now looked at the bodies Alyna had set on fire. “Impressive.”

Alyna realised Cyndia had watched her feed, and she inexplicably felt a little exposed for knowing. She had fed publically many times, but always amongst the Scourge. It was normal for them to witness atrocities, so for someone else to witness her hunger felt odd.

She pushed aside her brief insecurity. A ranger would never reveal themselves unless they had a reason. Alyna decided to hazard a guess as to why Cyndia had made contact.

“ _She_ sent you.”

Cyndia’s red eyes flashed, though Alyna was not entirely sure why.

“You stalk the Dark Lady’s lands,” Cyndia almost purred. “Naturally, she would wish to know why.” Her tone had become fierce, and loyal. It would appear the flash had been anger at Alyna’s disrespectful tone. She decided to diplomatically soften her voice in reply.

“I will gladly explain myself to you, sister. Perhaps, you could also convey my greetings to your queen?”

Cyndia held up a piece of folded parchment. “You can tell her yourself.”

She placed it on a sizable rock between them and backed away from it towards the trees. Alyna watched as shadows appeared to swirl around Cyndia, and she disappeared into darkness before she had actually reached the treeline. Alyna raised her eyebrow at the trick. When she had first realised her ranger spells would no longer work, she had gone through a deep shock. For some reason, she had thought the Lich King had suppressed her abilities to force her to use magic. Once free, she had been looking forward to being a ranger again. That had not been the case. Shadow and frost were her arts now, not the natural magic of a ranger. Over the last two weeks she had managed to adapt her abilities to mimic some of the ranger arts she had in life, but what she had just seen was beyond what she had managed so far.

Alyna stared at the parchment. The small voice at the back of her mind was screaming at her to pick it up, but she had her doubts. Sylvanas clearly knew she existed, but how? What did that mean? Why did she want to meet up with her? Alyna had been an enemy of the Forsaken for the last five years, and had actively done things against the faction of undead her former fiancée ruled. Did Sylvanas know that too? Was she being invited to her execution? If Sylvanas tried to destroy her, was she prepared to respond in kind to defend herself?

The thought made her sick. She was a cold-blooded killer, but she knew she could not give Sylvanas a true death. It was not love, or even sentiment that drove her unease, but a sense of connection to the woman that had dominated most of her life. She had always been relieved that the Lich King had not demanded she kill Sylvanas. Now she was free, she could not harm Sylvanas, even if it meant meeting her own true death. The former general was the only person left who could help Alyna find a purpose she believed in again. What was effective immortality if she didn’t have somewhere to belong?

Alyna realised she was very alone in this new world her actions had helped to create. Her plan to have her revenge against Arthas was doomed to fail unless she could find allies, and Sylvanas was her best hope. They at least had that goal in common.

The possible rewards outweighed the risk of her true death, so Alyna stepped forward cautiously towards the parchment, fully aware that Cyndia would still be watching. The parchment had been sealed with black wax, but there was no stamp embedded in it. It would appear Sylvanas was being cautious in case the note fell into the wrong hands. She broke the seal to read its contents. The words were in Thalassian, and she recognised the hand writing. It was definitely from Sylvanas.

_If you wish to carve a new beginning for yourself again, you know where to go._

_Clever_ , Alyna thought. If Cyndia had been tempted to read the note, she would have no idea what it referred to or where it sent her.

Alyna knew where to go, and she guessed Cyndia would try to follow her. She could not blend into the shadows as Cyndia had, but Alyna had been taught her craft by the best ranger Quel’Thalas had ever known. While the wilds no longer responded to her call she knew much that did not require it.

The former captain pulled her hood up and smiled, allowing Cyndia to see it, and her fangs, before putting her mask in place.

_Well, let her try._


	5. Chapter 5

Sylvanas stood silently with her back against a large tree, her bow in her hand. Anyone looking at the tree would have seen just the tree, her ranger magic not even causing the air to shimmer as she stood as still as death itself. There were fewer trees here now, the vale having fallen victim to the plague of undeath. She had not been back here since that night twenty years ago, but her memories of the past had brought her to the right spot – the tree Alyna had carved their initials into after making love.

The carving had indeed been a new beginning, in more ways than one. She stared at it now, a few meters in front of her. It had distorted slightly as the trunk had become thicker, but it was still recognisable for what it was. She had no idea how this meeting with Alyna would end, but then she hadn’t been sure about the ending twenty years ago either. Quietly, she marvelled at how the tree was still alive despite the plagued soil all around it. Like those who had marred its bark, it was fighting against a world it no longer belonged in, and had simply adapted to the new circumstances.

Sylvanas caught movement out the corner of her eye, but she remained still so her ability remained intact. As the figure moved more fully into her field of vision, she could make out the slender form of a hooded female elf. She had a loaded bow ready to fire as she cautiously surveyed the area. Her eyes were black, and faint wisps of visible strands indicated the woman had white hair. She had a black mask drawn up around her nose and mouth. There was no doubt in Sylvanas’ mind though that she was looking at Alyna. She had spent a lot of time watching her former lover, and the way she moved, as gracefully as she did when she had been alive, was unmistakable, and indelibly etched into the queen’s mind. She was surprised at what death had done to the burgundy-haired woman she had known. She was also curious as to why she did not have the wings she had expected to see.

Alyna moved to the tree and stood in front of it, seemingly contemplating the carving for long moments before words split the air between them.

“If you want to kill me you best aim for my head. Nothing else will do.”

The sudden Thalassian words made Sylvanas start. The intimately familiar voice sounded wrong to her, damaged by the sound of death. Her guilt at failing to defend Silvermoon and the Sunwell flashed through her.

Alyna had turned around and was staring right at her. While shocking, the queen knew Alyna could not actually see her. Her savvy ex-protégé was guessing as to where she would hide, and had been spot on. Sylvanas released the shadows she had held around her, materialising before the other woman. Her burning red eyes met the endless black ones of her former lover. Other than a faint widening of Alyna’s eyes, she did not react.

Sylvanas replied bluntly, “If I had wished to kill you, you would already have fallen.”

Alyna inclined her head slightly to acknowledge the truth of the comment. They slowly looked over each other, noticing all the changes since they had last been together. After a few minutes, Alyna broke the silence.

“You were never one for sentimentality.” Sylvanas knew she was referring to the tree.

“I couldn’t have you come to Undercity.” Her eyes flashed. “Scourge generals don’t tend to last long there.”

“If you thought me still Scourge, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Sylvanas paused. “No.” She slung her bow over her shoulder. “Some of your former death knights have sought sanctuary with my people. They told me what you did in Acherus after you broke free.” She gestured towards the east. “And you’ve left quite the trail of dead Scourge in your wake.” She raised a silvery-blonde eyebrow. “And a few humans.”

They stared at each other again. Again, it was Alyna who spoke first, “You look …”

“Dead?” Sylvanas finished bluntly.

“I was going to say ‘corporeal’.” Alyna tilted her head to the side as she recalled a memory. “The last time I saw you, you were a banshee spirit.”

“I still am. I reclaimed my body once I was free.” Sylvanas hesitated before continuing, “What happened to you, after they took you?”

Alyna’s eyes darkened somehow despite being black. She turned her head and looked off into the distance.

“The short version is they took me to Northrend, to a necropolis called Naxxramas that was stationed in Icecrown, where the Lich King’s throne is.” She paused to gather her thoughts. Her voice, when it came, was detached as if reciting a list of chores. “They experimented on me. They knew I was to be killed; it was just a minor matter of what to do with my corpse. When Arthas was on his way back to you from Kalimdor, he stopped by to kill me, and make me into what I am.” She frowned. “It then gets hazy, for a while. I was not quite … sane.”

Sylvanas understood. The agony of being forcefully raised from the dead left many with precarious mental states. Factor in the suffering she had endured prior to the final abhorrent act, and the fact she regained her sanity at all was a testament to the strength Alyna carried. Still, it would seem it was still a difficult subject for Alyna, so she decided not to press. She did want to sate her curiosity though.

“I heard you had wings.”

It was Alyna’s turn to raise a white eyebrow. “I did. I had them … removed … once I was free.” She shrugged passively. “They were not conducive to blending in and would have just slowed me down.”

“Quite a drastic thing to do to yourself,” the queen observed.

Alyna snarled behind her mask before she closed her eyes to aid in composing herself. Sylvanas watched patiently. She did not know what Alyna had been through, but she did know that a new set of problems were now starting for the freshly freed Scourge. The Lich King’s suffocating presence helped contain and control a myriad of emotion, and that was now gone. Alyna would regain some of these over time, and would have to learn to control them or lose herself to them. Sylvanas could see she was struggling to control her temper.

When Alyna opened her eyes, she simply replied, “Sometimes drastic measures are required to free yourself. There were a lot of things done to me I never asked for or wanted. I rid myself of what I could, as soon as I could.”

Sylvanas was equally appalled and impressed. She was appalled that her former love had been twisted to such an extent that she’d had wings. The fact she had taken the first opportunity to shed them told her that some part of Alyna had still resisted, even after all this time. She still had her own mind. That was not just impressive, but miraculous.

“Were you unable to break free from his control when the rest of us did five years ago?”

Alyna looked directly at Sylvanas again. Her face showed no emotion, but her stance was noticeably stiff. Her voice was soft and distant again as she recalled what had happened.

“You were all very far away, where his influence was weakest. I don’t remember much, but Prince Kael’thas had brought some of his ‘blood elves’ to attack, along with the kaldorei demon hunter, Illidan. The Lich King had me help defend him until Arthas returned.” Alyna looked down. “I knew they were losing power, but I was still too weak to break free. My proximity to them meant they were still too strong. Once Arthas became the Lich King, that was it. His power returned, stronger than before, and none of us were going anywhere.”

Sylvanas suddenly blurted out, “I looked for you. I … tried.” She instantly scolded herself for her lapse, knowing her guilt had driven the outburst.

Alyna made eye contact again. “I know.”

Her words were slow and deliberate, and conveyed more pain than the speaker probably intended. Sylvanas must have looked surprised, because Alyna gave her a sardonic chuckle before her bitter words flowed freely.

“I _knew_ you were free. Who do you think he took his rage at your rebellion out on?” Sylvanas flinched. It had never crossed her mind that he would do that. “He would tell me of your search to taunt me further. _Particularly_ the moment you gave up.” Sylvanas started to say something but Alyna interrupted her, holding her hand up and softening her tone. “I don’t blame you.” She tilted her head before amending her statement. “Not anymore. I did, for a while, until I realised I was just blaming you because blaming him made him even more intolerable than he already was.”

“So, you’re not angry with me?” Sylvanas asked slowly. Alyna seemed to understand the question. Sylvanas wanted to know if she had to watch her back.

Alyna relaxed her posture, her expression one of obvious relief.

“No.”

Sylvanas acknowledged that she believed her with a tilt of her head. Alyna then offered, “I do have a confession to make though.”

“Oh?”

“I know you have traitors still loyal to him in your midst.”

The Banshee Queen’s voice carried a dangerous tone, “And how would you know about that?”

“I put them there,” Alyna replied honestly.

Sylvanas’ eyes blazed with rage but she managed to control it enough to ask, “Under _his_ instructions, I assume?”

“Yes.” Alyna didn’t hide her anger at how she was used. “He found it entertaining to have me report to him on what you were doing.” She looked down at the floor as her body shook with emotion. “He had me spy on you for years, from a distance. He was amused by it.” She raised her head and Sylvanas could see a slow smile appear. “I did get some satisfaction that you resisted and thrived though, even if it meant I was punished for failing to bring you back into the Scourge.”

Sylvanas growled her frustration. “How? I know the Horde and Alliance have their spies within the Forsaken. That is to be expected; we all spy on each other, and they are _embarrassingly_ transparent. But how could _any_ of my people be Scourge?”

“I had volunteers from the Cult of the Damned killed using the plague of undeath. They were placed into graves I knew you would eventually move on to for your … recruits.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Each had certain skill sets we … _I_ … knew would be useful to you.”

Sylvanas was dumbfounded. Her necromancers moved from crypt to graveyard looking for undead victims of the plague Kel’Thuzad had unleashed before Arthas had even become a death knight. She had no means to raise the dead herself as their knowledge of necromancy was currently too weak, so she had focused on those corpses still freshly rising from their graves. The Third War was over, but the plague had endured, and still killed any human it infected only for them to rise as Scourge, sometimes months later. If they were caught early enough, the Lich King’s grasp could be easily broken, and if their minds were intact, they were usually grateful to be offered a home amongst the Forsaken. They could have purpose again.

Sylvanas felt sick. She had freed his spies from his own grip and invited them right into her ranks.

It was also ingenious, and she took a moment to appreciate the plan her former lover had devised, despite her revulsion. If a random sentient undead had just appeared on her doorstep it would have been treated with suspicion. She would have allowed it to stay, but it would not access key areas for many years until trust had been proven several times over. But, any _new_ Forsaken they created themselves were commonly trusted very quickly. As far as Forsaken generally trusted anyone, that is.

She allowed her revulsion to evolve into a familiar fury.

Sylvanas spoke through gritted teeth, “I assume you know their names?”

Alyna reached into her jerkin slowly and pulled out the note Cyndia had passed to her. She held it out to Sylvanas, who approached and took it from her outstretched hand. She considered backing away again, but decided to remain close as a show of initial trust. And she _was_ starting to trust this woman again, she realised.

She looked at the list. Eleven names were scrawled in Alyna’s scratchy hand writing in what appeared to be black Scourge blood, most likely her own. She almost laughed at that minor detail but the list of names sobered her. They were mostly mid-ranking officials in key positions throughout her military, reconnaissance and research divisions. There was one low ranking agent in the Apothecary Society, but the name was familiar. He had recently been put forward for a promotion, though she had not had time to approve it yet.

The last name on the list made her scream with rage. Alyna had been prepared for a reaction and managed not to recoil. Sylvanas crunched the parchment in her fist.

Her voice shook with anger. “I need to deal with this without delay.”

Alyna nodded her understanding.

Sylvanas tilted her head and gave Alyna a thoughtful look. “We can discuss the particulars later, and I cannot make any promises, but … if you are willing to submit to my rule, you could forge a new home with my people.” _With me._ She had no idea where that thought had suddenly come from, but she had just managed to stop from saying it.

She was pleased when there was no hesitation in Alyna’s response. The other woman pulled her hood back to reveal her loose shoulder-length white hair, and tugged her mask down to expose the rest of her face. Two white points jutted down from under her upper lip, and Sylvanas realised with surprise they were fangs. _What else has he done to her_ , she wondered.

The gesture was not necessary, but Sylvanas understood. Alyna was showing her she had nothing to hide and was purposefully making herself feel vulnerable by removing the trappings she found comfort in. Alyna unslung her bow, unsheathed her swords and dropped her quiver before she knelt before Sylvanas in a show of fealty, head bowed. In a surprising move, she then spoke words the Forsaken frequently used to show their loyalty to their queen.

“Victory for Sylvanas.”

Sylvanas was pleased.

She pressed her knuckle under Alyna’s chin and raised the still graceful elven head so she could gaze into her black eyes.

“Come, my subject. We have revenge to mete out.”

“With pleasure, my Queen.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of the Banshee Queen’s lips.

_My Alyna is back where she belongs._

* * *

 

Sylvanas watched her grand executor enter the throne room. She was sitting on her throne, with a hooded female elf at her side. She watched as Dillard looked at the woman she knew looked like a ranger just by her stance alone. Her armour was different to normal and that appeared to make him uneasy. Or, it could have been the fact the unusual ranger was holding a sword slowly oozing with the black ichor of undead blood.

He looked around until he saw the pile of Forsaken bodies to the side of her dais. Without needing to issue any orders, the doors to the throne room closed behind him just as he began to recognise some of the faces. His glowing yellow eye sockets flashed in shock and he turned, to find three royal dreadguards blocking his way. He was disarmed swiftly and pushed towards the queen. Finally, he was pressed onto his knees.

His body shook with fear as his gaze fixed on the ten bodies. His shoulders slumped, and she knew he was not going to fight her or deny his involvement in their treachery.

“How did you know?” he stammered. He was obviously stunned and in complete disbelief that not just one of his cohort was discovered, but all of them.

“I made a new friend.” Sylvanas chuckled humourlessly. “Actually, I found an old one.”

He looked at Sylvanas, and then at the ranger. On cue, the ranger raised her head. Above the black mask he could plainly see a pair of endless, and very angry, black eyes. Both women knew by the look on his face that he had never expected to see those particular eyes ever again.

He gasped, falling backwards off his knees with the shock. “Y-your Highness! B-but, but how?”

Sylvanas had raised an eyebrow when the first traitor had used a royal address towards Alyna, and she had made a note to ask her about it at some point. They had all uttered something similar to what Dillard was babbling now, and their confusion and surprise had thrilled her every time.

_‘Victory for Sylvanas’ indeed_ , she thought.

She smiled cruelly at him.

“Your fellow traitors told me everything I wanted to know before they met their true deaths. You could say it was very … _enlightening_.” Sylvanas spread her hands benignly. “I am ruthless when I have to be, but I am not without mercy. I allowed Alyna here to give them a relatively quick end as a reward for their … cooperation.”

He blanched. They could all see the tell-tale signs of torture on some of the bodies. Some had died quickly, but it was clear that not all had been so willing to talk. Undead were highly resistant to conventional pain, but if you knew what you were doing, it was possible to cause great agony to an undead creature. Sylvanas knew Dillard was well aware of the particular talents both women before him had with such matters.

“What do you wish to know, Dark Lady?” His voice was resigned.

Her cold laugh echoed off the walls of the throne room.

When she spoke, her anger was unmistakeable. “Nothing, my former Grand Executor. I need _nothing_ from you, other than your enduring agony and suffering.”

Two of the guards grabbed him under his fleshless armpits and began to drag him away. His realisation was clear on his face. He was not going to get a quick true death. His fate would be far more protracted; his Dark Lady would make sure of that.

“No, NO! Wait! I know things! I can help you. P-please!” He had been pulled from the throne room, though they could still hear him screaming down the corridor. “I can be of use to you!!”

Sylvanas rose from her throne. She signalled to one of the remaining guards and gestured to the messy pile. “I want them staked along the main entrance to the ruins.”

“Yes, my Queen.” He saluted and went about his task.

All those entering and leaving Undercity through the main elevators had to traverse through a particular part of the ruined city above. The bodies would line this route; the price of treason visible to all. She would keep them there long after their rotting bodies were picked clean by the carrion birds that made the ruins their home. She would then have them burnt so they could not be raised again, and finally find something ridiculously petty, but satisfying, to do with their ashes.

Sylvanas hated traitors.

She moved around the throne towards her office. She gestured for Alyna to follow, and she was pleased when she did so obediently.

It was time for a little career chat.


	6. Chapter 6

Sylvanas sat behind her desk and invited Alyna to sit opposite her. Alyna obliged, tugging her mask down so she could talk clearly.

The banshee queen raised a questioning eyebrow. “Your Highness?”

Alyna shrugged. “It was my title.” When Sylvanas said nothing, Alyna recognised it was time for more detailed explanations. “I belonged to a 'race' called the Darkfallen. Specifically, to the ruling faction known as the San'layn.” She scowled, unable to keep a neutral face. “I was the first, and became part of the ruling blood council along with three princes, and the blood queen. Hence the royal address.”

“You are not the queen despite being the first?” Her suspicion was obvious.

“I was not as accepting of my ... condition ... as others.” Alyna met Sylvanas’ gaze evenly. “The queen and princes fully accept what they are and revel in the power it brings them.”

“But not you.”

“But not me.”

Sylvanas did not seem entirely convinced but she moved on. “Who are the rest of the council?”

“Lana'thel rules the San'layn as the Blood Queen. Keleseth, Valanar and Taldaram are her chief princes. There are other lesser 'royals' but those four comprise the Blood Council, now minus myself.”

Recognition showed in Sylvanas' eyes. They had all been magisters of varying reputation, all of whom had vied for status constantly against their peers. Lana’thel’s daughter, Thal'ena, had also been Alyna’s roommate on Quel’Danas. “How did they come to be Scourge? Through Prince Kael’thas?”

After the fall of Silvermoon, the prince had returned to find his people had been decimated. Ninety percent of the population had fallen to the Scourge, which had led him to rename his people from high elves, to blood elves – the sin’dorei. In his anger, he had taken the best of his followers and he had gone to Icecrown to destroy the Lich King, along with some new allies – the kaldorei demon hunter, Illidan, and a faction of the mysterious serpentine naga, led by Lady Vashj.

Alyna nodded. “By then I had already been … turned, and I was forced to fight against them when they arrived.” She did not look away exactly, but found herself looking past Sylvanas as she continued. “I killed Keleseth, and helped bring down a few others. Arthas managed to defeat Kael’thas after he eventually arrived, and once he became the Lich King the prince fled with his allies. He didn’t think to burn the elven corpses, or take them with him. The Lich King made use of them all.”

Sylvanas nodded her understanding. “You mention 'blood' a lot. Why?”

“We require it for sustenance and to power our abilities.” She decided not to mention the soul-feeding aspect, a thread of shame flashing through her at the thought of admitting to the desire.”

“You’re vampires,” Sylvanas summarised, showing no surprise.

Alyna knew Cyndia would have most likely reported on what she had seen. Her fangs, while subtle, had been a clue too. Alyna inclined her head slightly to acknowledge being a vampire. Throughout the ages many had bizarrely wanted to become such a creature, but the reality was they had only existed in stories. Arthas had changed that.

“Yes,” Alyna replied simply.

“I assume you require humanoid blood from the living? Or can you feed off animals?”

Alyna was not sure what to make of the queen’s clinical questioning. She eventually reasoned that Sylvanas did not have time for the polite conventions of conversation that the living were fond of.

“I cannot feed from animals, no.”

“And other undead?”

Alyna actually blanched at the suggestion and her disgusted reaction almost drew a smile from the impassive queen. She was aware Sylvanas was ascertaining the safety of her people, and herself, but Alyna also knew she only had partial information. Alyna could feed from any humanoid soul, living or undead. Blood, however, was a different matter.

“Undead blood is … revolting, to put it mildly.”

Sylvanas shuffled through the parchment on her desk and pulled one of them loose, presumably a report. She skimmed through it before stating, “I’m going to have to order you not to feed on the civilian human population, for now. Keep it to the Scarlet Crusade.” She looked up at Alyna. “Understood?”

Alyna wanted to ask why, but accepted she did not have that right. “Yes, my Lady.”

The honorific appeared to thrill Sylvanas slightly. The queen leant back in her chair and gazed at Alyna coolly. “I know you’re still useful with a bow. What else can you can do?”

“Shadow and frost magic. Though, it would be easier to demonstrate the specifics rather than list spells.” Sylvanas inclined her head in agreement. Alyna continued. “As I mentioned, my magic is dependent on how well fed I am, both in frequency and intensity. I’ve retained my basic magi abilities, so I can open portals, teleport, blink. My fire spells are now rooted in shadow.” Alyna looked down momentarily. “I tried to use my ranger abilities, but couldn’t. I’ve managed to adapt a few of my shadow magic skills to compensate to varying degrees of success.”

“Despite your power, you _still_ want to be a ranger?” Sylvanas sounded amused.

“I never wanted magic fifty years ago, either,” countered Alyna. She shrugged, “I’m not as powerful as you think I am. Felo’alann magnified what I had when I possessed it, and now my feeding enhances what I can do now. It’s all artificial. The real me is a ranger.”

“Power is power, Alyna, no matter the source.”

Alyna frowned. “With respect, not everyone craves power for power’s sake, even you, my Lady.”

Sylvanas started, but conceded the point. Alyna knew Sylvanas was queen by default. No one else had the strength to lead, and Sylvanas’ goal was not to gain power for personal gain, but to defeat the Lich King. Being the Banshee Queen served her purpose, and that was it.

“What happened to Felo’alann?” Sylvanas asked.

“I don’t know. I dropped it at the Sunwell, and that was the last I saw of it.” She chuckled dryly. “I asked after it, of course, but Lana’thel withheld the answer from me, as well as the runeblade.”

“She knows?”

“Oh, she knows. She took far too much delight in not telling me to not know.” Alyna quirked an eyebrow. “Wherever it is, I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.”

“Fate certainly has had a twisted sense of humour of late,” remarked Sylvanas.

“I’m not laughing.”

The queen raised an eyebrow at the blunt retort. No one spoke to her that way anymore, their fear at her displeasure overriding any urge. She found she did not mind in this instance, but she made a mental note to make sure it never happened in public or with others present.

For now, Sylvanas changed the subject. “I have already taken the liberty of assuming you wish to be a ranger again, considering your attire. To that end, I have ordered my local captain to take you into her company.” She looked at Alyna evenly. “I have no doubt as to your physical skills as you appear to have retained them, as we all did, but if you are unable to adapt your shadow magic to my dark ranger teachings we will have to come up with another role for you.” Sylvanas reached into the central drawer in her desk and pulled out a small metal disc embossed with symbols Alyna couldn’t read. She placed it before Alyna. “This marks you as one of my dark rangers. I cannot give you a commission as you will have to retrain and earn the respect of the others.” _And from me,_ she thought. “But, if you learn as quickly as I hope you will, that can change.”

Alyna nodded, “I understand.” She picked the disc up and examined it. “What language is this?”

Sylvanas looked like she had started to roll her eyes before controlling the involuntary movement. “Gutterspeak. It’s a lower form of Common the people adopted as our official language. The dark rangers generally use Thalassian, but I suggest you learn Gutterspeak, and quickly. It would also be wise to learn some Orcish as well, seeing as that’s the language the Horde conducts everything in.” Sylvanas almost growled her next words. “I should remind you that by joining the Forsaken you are also now a member of the Horde, and everything that entails.”

“You don’t like the Horde?” Alyna already knew some Orcish as there had been some orc death knights around Acherus, but she would have to find some help with learning Gutterspeak.

Sylvanas took a moment to decide whether to answer the question or not, eventually saying, “They’re a means to an end, and they’re not overly fond of us either.”

Alyna pocketed the disc, belatedly adding, “Thank you.”

The queen chuckled ominously, “Don’t thank me yet.”

A knock on the door interrupted anything else that may have been said.

Sylvanas gave Alyna a small smile, immediately putting Alyna on edge. “That’ll be your new captain.” She raised her voice so the newcomer could hear. “Enter!”

Alyna stood and turned, failing to keep the surprise from her eyes as Talnia walked in to the office. She looked back at Sylvanas, who was still smiling as she said, “I never said this was going to be easy for you.”

Alyna’s only consolation was that Talnia did not appear enamoured with the idea of having to train Alyna either.

“Take her to the barracks and get started,” ordered their queen. “Come back to me once she has settled in.”

Talnia bowed her head slightly, “Yes, my Lady.” She looked Alyna up and down before turning on her heel and walking out the door.

Alyna glanced back at Sylvanas uncertainly, getting an expressionless look in return. Realising she had also been dismissed, she jogged after Talnia.

* * *

 

Alyna stalked slowly through the trees, her footfalls silent. Her bow was loaded as she searched around for her objective. After a few minutes, a bright red ribbon came into view above her head. Her focus on maintaining her shadow-enhanced stealth was such she almost missed it.

She frowned at its location halfway along a slender branch that she knew would not hold her weight. A solution forming in her mind, she removed the arrow from her bow and raised herself up on her toes, using the arrow to extend her reach. Concentrating hard, she stretched her stealth around the long arrow and managed to flick the ribbon off the branch. She caught it before it hit the floor and she immediately moved away from the tree. When nothing happened, she attached the ribbon to her belt with the other six she had already found, and continued on her task. She had one left to find.

She kept every sense on high alert as she pressed on through the trees. She had been at this for half the day, and maintaining her stealth was draining. Talnia had put her through exercise after exercise for the past week to try and teach her the new skills the rangers had developed. Conversations had been strictly limited to Alyna’s training, at the insistence of both women. It would appear neither of them wanted to bring up Sunsail any time soon. Not directly, anyway.

A couple of abilities had come easily to Alyna, but most were taking a lot of work for her to learn. Her magic had a different source to the other rangers, and she was having to learn to manipulate shadow in a way the rest did not need to do. She had not admitted this, of course. Talnia would have labelled her a failure and taken her back to Sylvanas as untrainable. For now, she was letting the merciless captain think she was just being slow to pick certain things up. As long as she did keep managing to adapt and learn, she knew she could pull through. She just hoped Talnia did not try to teach her a skill she could not adjust to in time.

After another hour of scouting around for the last ribbon, she came across a freshly planted field, though she had no idea what the crop would be. Her eyes scanned the ground for hints of red before her gaze fell on an ancient-looking scarecrow in the middle of the field. Pinned like a medal on its chest, was a red ribbon. Two sides of the field were bordered by trees, and Alyna cautiously made her way around the edge to make sure no one was there lying in wait. When she was sure she was alone, she slowly crept out over the soil, planting her feet softly so as to disturb it as little of it as possible.

The scarecrow was dressed in mouldy clothing, the spores tickling her nose as she reached it. As she stretched her arm out to remove the ribbon from the scarecrow, she felt a force slam into her shoulder, knocking her arm away. She blinked and looked down. An arrow had been expertly shot through the gap between her shoulder armour and breastplate, despite her stealthy approach.

“Shit,” she muttered, knowing what was about to happen next.

The pain spread quickly from her wound through her body, and she fell to her knees, knowing her stealth had been broken. Her body shook with the magical poison that had been applied to the arrow, and she managed not to cry out as she doubled over.

She could not hear it, but she knew a pair of booted feet were slowly walking towards her from where their owner had shot the arrow. Her stealth had been so perfect Alyna had not detected her standing in the open field. Alyna felt strong hands roughly force the arrow cleanly through her shoulder, before breaking the shaft and pulling the arrow out from her wound. She then sensed her body try to heal the wound. Despite being drained, she managed to have enough magical energy to seal the injury, though she was incapable of purging the poison even if she had just fed.

Alyna endured the pain as the owner of the boots watched silently. When the poison had run its course, she raised her head to the smiling features of Talnia.

“That arrow was stronger than the others,” Alyna managed to say.

The captain chuckled. “I find pain to be an effective teacher. You weren’t learning, so I increased your incentive.”

Alyna growled as her body recovered. “Not learning? I got seven this time; nearly all eight.”

“’Nearly’ doesn’t make any difference.”

Alyna chuckled weakly. “It does to me when I know it took _you_ a week to grab all eight without being caught, and I’m only on day two of this task.”

Talnia held up the poisoned arrow head for Alyna to see. “I could have made this a lot worse for you, and you know I want nothing more than to see just how much you can take.” She knelt down beside Alyna and hissed her next words into Alyna’s ear, “All I need is a reason to do so, _Ranger_ , so I can justify it to our Lady. There are no rules here – just survival. It’s in _your_ best interests to watch that fanged mouth of yours.” She wrapped the arrow head in a piece of cloth and pocketed it before she grabbed Alyna’s unwounded arm to pull her to her feet. “Get back to the barracks so I can set you a new course.”

Alyna wobbled unsteadily for a moment and cringed inside. “I need to feed.” The admission, she knew, would cost her in her superior’s eyes, but she was too weak for another task. None of the other rangers had to stop to eat or drink.

Talnia made a sound of disgust before she let go of Alyna’s arm. “Fine.” She looked around, picked a direction and started back towards the trees. “There should be some scarlet’s this way, if you think you can keep up.”

Alyna followed behind her captain, her eyes boring angrily into the woman’s back.

* * *

 

The ribbon taunted her as it fluttered in the breeze. This time, Talnia had attached the last one to a weather vane on the roof of a human farmhouse. Alyna cursed the woman. Despite the problematic positioning of the ribbon, she eventually smiled. In Talnia’s eagerness to push Alyna beyond her limits, she was actually helping Alyna to exceed her own expectations.

Another two days had passed since her failure at the scarecrow, and she had failed another three times on the final ribbon. But, each failure had taught her more about how to control her stealth in awkward situations. Her stealth was always undetectable at the start of each run as Alyna was at her most powerful. As the task evolved and her limits were pushed, her power drained and she knew it was only a matter of time before Talnia would detect the tell-tale shimmer of air that told the devious captain where she was. Her power drain was unavoidable, but on this run Alyna believed she now knew how to power her stealth more efficiently.

As she now looked at the weather vane, she felt stronger than she had any previous time at this stage. The question now was not whether she could maintain her stealth through exhaustion, but whether she could maintain her stealth and her concentration while climbing up to the roof. She knew Talnia was somewhere near watching with the patience of a hunter. The poison on the arrows was getting worse with each failure, as the captain had promised. This time, Alyna was hoping to unleash a surprise of her own.

She made a quick circuit around the house, keeping to the trees where she could. There was a smaller building up against one side of the house that she could possibly try and scale, and then get onto the larger roof from there. On the same side of the home, and more easily accessible, was a vine-covered trellis that would allow her to scale the entire side of the main house. It was invitingly easy, which made Alyna suspicious. Continuing her circuit, she noted a small family graveyard with small tombstones jutting out the soft ground, a vegetable garden, a pair of hanging baskets hooked to the wall, a few closed windows and a crumbling well. No one appeared to be home. She could see no other obvious paths to the roof, until she realised the house had an external chimney stack that ran from the ground to above the roof itself.

With great care, she slowly walked down the wide road to the farm. It was wide enough for a cart and horse, and the dirt was hard under her feet so she did not have to worry about leaving prints. As she neared the house, the road split into two paths that encircled the buildings. Instead of walking around the side where the trellis was, she went the other way towards the chimney. She carefully looked at the stone used to construct it. While it had been cut by a decent stonemason, it was not of the same quality of a master. She decided it was rough enough for her to climb, and she slung her bow over her back. For the first time she could remember, she appreciated the short sharp claws she now had instead of nails as she could dig them into the soft stone. She did so carefully, so as not to create enough debris to be detected. She found very narrow purchases as she climbed for her feet, the stone not having been laid precisely enough to leave a smooth surface.

It was not a particularly difficult climb, but the task of maintaining her stealth while she did it resulted in it taking much longer than expected. Eventually, she sat crouched on top of the chimney, grateful the occupants were not home to use it. She had no problem with the cold, but heat made her very uncomfortable, as it did for most undead. She eyed the thatched roof carefully as it did not look particularly thick. She walked along the ridge, knowing it was the only guaranteed solid part of the roof. The weather vane stood at the far end of the roof, and she reached it quickly.

And then paused.

She could easily take the ribbon, but as soon as she did that she knew she would have an arrow hurtling towards her. The fact she did not already have an arrow in her side meant Talnia had not seen her, but once she touched the ribbon it would effectively disappear suddenly under her stealth. There was only one possible place she could be to do that, and Talnia would not need to see her to fire her arrow.

Crouched beside the weather vane, Alyna cautiously looked around. She knew she would not be able to spot the cagey captain, but she suspected she may not have to. Talnia had always set up the final ribbons in such a way that she could still trap Alyna even if she got the ribbon. Alyna realised that also meant there were only a few places Talnia could be in order to have a direct line of sight to the ribbon, and also the possible clear routes to it. The house had a modest garden that was used to grow vegetables for the family. The rest of the land immediately around was tilled farmland. Beyond that, was the forest.

From her vantage point, Alyna could see the top of the trellis she had been tempted to climb. Next was a small patch of visible garden, then part of the path, the field, and then the trees. The treeline was over a hundred metres away, but Talnia was more than capable of still hitting Alyna with an arrow from that distance. The tilled soil was too soft to stand on without leaving footprints, and the garden was too close. If Alyna had decided to climb the trellis Talnia would risk being walked into if she had stood there.

She looked at the dirt path. It was not as hard packed as the road, but someone of Talnia’s skill would not leave any evidence on it. Alyna raised an eyebrow as she also realised she could see the tallest of the tombstones in the graveyard. Slowly, she smiled under her mask. One thing she had learnt about Talnia was the only thing currently greater than her desire to make Alyna as miserable as possible, was her ego. Alyna would have chosen to hide in the trees which had the most protection and easiest escape route, but she knew Talnia would always prefer to hide out in the open, where she could flaunt her skills the most.

Alyna unslung her bow and fingered the arrows in her quiver, looking for the fletch of a particular one. When she found it, she pulled it free and nocked it into her bow. With a self-satisfied smile, she aimed at the empty air above the tombstone, and fired.

The cry of alarm told her all she needed to know. She grabbed the ribbon and pressed herself down onto her belly. Not a moment later, an arrow whizzed over her head. Having to deal with being shot had delayed the captain’s reaction just enough for Alyna to succeed.

“You _bitch_!” she heard Talnia scream at her, unable to see the woman from her low position.

Alyna crawled back along the beam and climbed down the chimney stack, still maintaining her stealth. She slowly edged around the path, and found Talnia as she had expected to find her. She had been stood on top of the tombstone when Alyna had shot her, but she was now on her knees in front of it, an arrow protruding from her abdomen. She was bent over, her arms hugging her bare stomach.

As Alyna approached, she chuckled, letting Talnia know she was now with her. The captain’s body was shaking, and she was trying to control her reaction. She raised her blazing red eyes as she heard Alyna’s amusement.

“ _You fucking bitch!_ ” she snarled with unbridled fury, her words laced with the pain she was clearly suffering. “You poisoned your arrow!”

Alyna pulled her mask down and crouched a few feet in front of Talnia to be able to look her in the eye as she dropped her stealth. She grinned widely, flashing her fangs.

She could not hide the amusement from her voice. “What can I say? You’ve taught me well.”

Talnia grunted as a surge of pain momentarily took all of her focus to control. The poison would get worse over time, just as Talnia’s had for Alyna, and she would be unable to talk soon as it reached its peak. When she looked up at Alyna she spat her words. “Do you think this will make things better for you? By attacking your captain?”

Alyna shrugged. She unhooked the eight ribbons from her belt and dropped them before the still suffering captain. “No rules, remember? _Your_ words, _your_ way.” _My revenge_ , she added with a thought. She winked at Talnia. “Four days.”

Talnia seethed. She tried to say something, but could not get the words out.

Alyna chuckled, “I know, I know. Get my ass back to the barracks so you can set up the next lesson.” She gave Talnia a mocking salute. “I’ll await your orders, _Captain_.”

Nothing would please Alyna more right now than to stay and watch Talnia suffer, but she’d had her fun. Staying would make it worse for her in the end, so she decided to leave the captain alone.

She focused on the power that flowed through her body. She still had substantial reserves left despite her activities, and it greatly thrilled her. She gracefully traced a deep purple magical sigil in the air, which hovered ethereally between the two women. Talnia watched, still unable to speak. Alyna replaced her mask and gave the furious woman another wink. She then grabbed the sigil, activating her teleport back to Undercity, leaving the captain to make her own way back.


	7. Chapter 7

The War Quarter took up the entire north western section of Undercity. The activity in the quarter was constant with blacksmiths forging, warriors and hunters training, and various citizens bare-bone brawling. The canal that ran through the whole city also passed through here, glowing a vibrant green with algae and other contaminants that even Alyna did not want to think about.

Alyna stood on one of the bridges that stretched over the canal, watching the inhabitants of the city go about their business. She was waiting for Talnia to call her to her next training session, having not seen her since she teleported away the day before, and had grown tired of the minimalistic ranger barracks. The other rangers were still giving her a wide birth, and she figured that would continue until Talnia deemed her to be fully trained, or at least capable enough to be assigned to a unit. They saw no point in getting to know her if she was not sticking around for long. She recognised most of them from their time alive, but knew few of their names, most of them having been in companies Alyna had had little to do with. She wasn’t sure if they even wanted to know her, considering she would always be their queen’s ex-girlfriend. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t particularly want to get to know them either, having got used to being alone. But, she knew if she was to make her time here worthwhile, she would need to make friends. Or passable acquaintances, at least.

“Well, look what the Scourge dragged in,” purred an amused voice speaking in Common.

Alyna turned to meet the glowing blue eyes of Koltira Deathweaver. Several other death knights were visible at the base of the bridge. They were trying to look casual, but she knew they were waiting for any sign of trouble. He saw her glance in their direction and added, “They won’t cause you any bother unless they want to answer to me.”

She looked at him in barely contained surprise. “Why would you defend me?”

He chuckled. “Oh, trust me, it’s not _you_ I care about in this instance. But,” he shrugged, “I have a new queen now, and like my old boss, she has a mean temper. I’m not keen to test it any time soon.”

Alyna raised an amused eyebrow. “You mean test it again? I heard about your jaw.”

“And I’ve heard you’re Talnia’s new plaything.”

She snarled at him. “I’m nothing of the sort.”

He smiled, and suddenly swapped to speaking in Thalassian. “She keeps you too busy to hear the gossip about her. You’ll want to watch your back around her.” He looked her up and down suggestively. “As well as your other assets.”

Alyna laughed at the implication, and replied in her native tongue, “Talnia does not go there, Koltira. Someone’s been pandering to your starved imagination.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, though considering who my sources are, I doubt it. Even undeath gets lonely, and when you’re surrounded only by women …” He trailed off, having painted a vivid enough picture.

“We’re dead,” Alyna stated bluntly.

Koltira met her eyes and held them for several moments. “You don’t feel it?”

“Feel _what?_ ” Impatience tinged her words.

He opened his mouth briefly before closing it, at a loss for words for a few moments. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” He paused before adding, “Or maybe you won’t. What do I know about Darkfallen physiology anyway?”

She understood why Sylvanas had broken his jaw as she wanted to do the same. She was about to say something snide when he kept talking.

“I can’t say I know what it’s like to have been you for the past few years, but I saw enough. Most death knights want you dead because of how you drove us, but I was there from the beginning, like you. I know what he made us _all_ do, and I know you had even less freedom than we did.” He shook his head slowly, “My point is, I have decided not to hold your actions while in the Scourge against you, and will judge you by what you freely do now.”

She had no idea where that declaration had come from, and if it wasn’t for his perfectly serious face she would have thought he was joking, but he wasn’t.

“She must have hit you _really_ hard.”

He actually laughed at her comment. “That she did.” He held out his forearm slowly so he did not startle her. “Truce?”

She stared at his arm for a long while before she raised her own to grasp his firmly. “All right, truce it is.” She wasn’t about to trust him, but it was better than having him as an enemy.

When she released his arm, he turned to leave before looking back at her.

“Perhaps, sometime soon when you go hunting scarlets, I can come with you? You can feed, I can slaughter.” He gave her a genuine smile. “We’ll have fun!”

While Alyna had to feed, death nights had to cause pain. They were both slaves to their natures, and she understood what drove him. And who knew? Perhaps they could even enjoy each other’s company.

She nodded, “I’ll come find you sometime.”

She watched the death knights move away towards the part of the quarter they had found themselves taking over. The conversation had surprised her. It was not in their nature to be ‘nice’. It was not something Alyna was practised at either, which had made not tearing off Talnia’s head all the more difficult. Despite being leashed to the Scourge, she’d been in a powerful position of command and had been used to getting her own way. Starting again from the bottom had been very trying on her patience. She was only going through with it because she knew the Forsaken were her best hope of getting revenge on Arthas.

And she didn’t want to let Sylvanas down.

She hadn’t seen the queen since Talnia had led her away from the throne room ten days ago. Perhaps that was to be expected now. Sylvanas was a queen with a nation to run, and Alyna was a rookie ranger recruited from their hated enemy. Queens did not deal with the likes of her; Alyna had certainly not when she was a princess.

She considered going back to the barracks when a female elven form appeared in her view, walking easily along beside the canal. The slender woman wore the trademark hood of a dark ranger, but it was how she moved that had caught Alyna’s attention, and it appeared that she was walking towards Alyna.

She felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips under her black mask as she waited on the bridge. The other woman came to a stop before her, her bright red eyes having already looked Alyna up and down as she approached. They regarded each other coolly for long moments before Alyna was wrapped into a tight embrace before she could react. Unsure how to respond, Alyna eventually raised her hands to return the hug briefly before they broke apart.

Kyala chuckled at her stunted reaction. “When the Dark Lady sent us out to look for you, I could hardly believe my ears. But, here you are.”

Alyna couldn’t help her curiosity. “You’ve only just got back?”

“When Lady Sylvanas wants someone found, she casts a wide net.” Kyala raised both her eyebrows in amusement, “And she really, _really_ wanted you to be found.”

Alyna raised her own eyebrow in response, knowing that Sylvanas had not had time to cast that wide a net before she’d been found. She hadn’t been that far away.

Kyala laughed. “I see there is no keeping anything from you, as always.” She shrugged. “I’m part of Areiel’s company, not Talnia’s. We were called home to help look for you, but once you were found we went back to our base at the Sepulcher.”

“So what brings you here?”

“My, my, someone is _definitely_ used to always having all the answers, aren’t they?” teased Kyala.

Alyna rankled at the words, unable to see them as a joke. It wasn’t. She was absolutely used to knowing everything that was going on around her and manipulating it to suit her needs.

Kyala winced. “Too soon? That was too soon.” She glanced around quickly before stepping closer and dropping her voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …” She appeared unable to finish the sentence. “Let’s start that again?” Alyna gave her a brief nod and Kyala stepped back a bit.

“I don’t know much about what happened to you, as I’m sure you’ve heard _plenty_ of times because none of us do, but I’m here to help you figure out what happens from now on.”

“Sylvanas asked you here?” probed Alyna.

“ _Lady_ Sylvanas summoned me here to assist in your transition, yes.” The emphasis was not lost on Alyna and she bowed her head, accepting the reproach. She was not used to thinking of or calling her former lover by anything other than ‘general’ and her first name, even in death. Each time she had slipped up, she had been corrected without hesitation, such was the fanatical respect, and fear, the Forsaken had for their queen.

Alyna was no fool, and she spoke her thoughts bluntly. “You’re my babysitter.”

Red eyes flashed with humour. “Think of me as your guide, not just to Undercity and the Forsaken, but to the rangers as well. You may have known some of their names in life, but things are quite different now. I’ll help you figure it all out before you piss anyone off enough to want you truly dead.”

The former princess rolled her black eyes. “I think it’s too late for that.”

Kyala nodded knowingly. “I can’t imagine being trained by Talnia is a thrilling experience for you.”

“I can handle her,” replied Alyna defensively.

Kyala didn’t immediately respond, looking at her former captain carefully. “We’ll see,” she eventually said.

Alyna was not sure what to make of Kyala not showing complete confidence in her ability to pass Talnia’s training. In two successive conversations, the people before her had always seemed to know something she didn’t, and the concept unsettled her deeply. On the other hand, she also now knew that whatever Talnia was up to for her next lesson, she had not told anyone about what Alyna had done to her as Kyala would have certainly mentioned it. She found that curious, and wondered if Sylvanas even knew. Somehow, she doubted it.

Now she just had to figure out exactly what that implied.

Not giving Alyna anymore time to dwell, Kyala stepped aside and gestured towards the ranger barracks. “So! Has anyone shown you around Undercity yet?”

Alyna blinked, and then shook her head. “Not really. I can get to and from the barracks, and have orders not to wander around without an escort.”

“Ah,” Kyala nodded. “That’ll be the former Scourge thing. We need to give the locals a little time to get used to your presence. I understand they’re gossiping wildly about you – nothing much changes does it?” She laughed. “How about we make my first action as your guide to be your actual tour guide, and then we can go somewhere quieter where we can catch up properly? Unless, there is something pressing you need to attend to?”

They both knew Alyna had been standing idle on the bridge with nothing better to do. Alyna wordlessly accepted the invitation and the two women stepped off the bridge together.

* * *

 

Sylvanas watched the two women move anticlockwise around the canal that ringed her city. It would seem Kyala was going to show Alyna the area that mainly contained the Apothecarium first. Incidentally, the entrance to her own Royal Quarter was also there.

She had been watching Alyna the entire time she had been on the bridge. She had not planned to. It was the banshee queen’s habit to prowl her own streets unseen so she could think on the matters at hand. It helped clear her thoughts, but it also meant she could gauge the mood of the Forsaken as a whole and listen in on gossip. The general Forsaken greeting and farewell of ‘Dark Lady watch over you’ was more accurate than they realised, though she did not do so out of any sense of protection for them. It was simply a good means of gathering information.

Koltira’s approach had intrigued her. She had not been aware there had been friction between Alyna and the death knights she had commanded, though she wasn’t surprised either. She had already been planning to keep Alyna away from her former subjects as much as possible, and witnessing the exchange had cemented that initial feeling. Sylvanas had been concerned that maintaining any former Scourge ties would keep Alyna from fully integrating into the Forsaken. While their reconciliation had appeared genuine, it had not changed her mind.

She had been more interested in Alyna’s almost lack of reaction to Kyala. They had been close friends in life, and her response to the familiar ranger had been underwhelming at best. It was just something else to add to the list of things to investigate about Alyna. She was now an unknown entity, and Sylvanas did not like unknown entities, especially in her city.

Which was why she had summoned Kyala to Undercity to do exactly what she had told Alyna she was there to do – keep her out of trouble. And to spy for Sylvanas, of course. The wily ranger was one of the very few Sylvanas felt she could trust with sensitive tasks. She had also yet to come across anyone who did not like the bubbly undead elf. Somehow, despite being a banshee, she was almost perpetually cheerful. She had taken everything that had happened to them in her stride and just accepted it all. Sylvanas was not sure Kyala was entirely sane, but she was undeniably loyal and dedicated to her queen. At the very least, she would help Sylvanas figure out just how far she could trust Alyna. She wanted to trust her former fiancée, but she reluctantly had to admit to herself that her judgement was impaired.

The canal was not normally as busy as the central parts of the city, but there were enough people to keep the noise level high enough to make it difficult for Sylvanas to hear what her two rangers were saying. From what little she could gleam, she was not missing much, though Kyala was taking her position as tour guide seriously.

The Apothecarium was bustling with activity, as it always was. Sylvanas had poured a lot of resources into the research that went on here. Her apothecaries were responsible for creating the stiched-together abominations that guarded the Undercity, as well as for developing variations of the plague of undeath. While the Forsaken controlled the Tirisfal Glades and Silverpine Forest, Sylvanas had been determined to bring the rest of the former kingdom of Lordaeron under her control. She had also decided that just killing the humans would take too long, and be a waste of resources. Why just kill them when she could recruit them? Her plague would allow for that event sometime in what she hoped was the near future. The number of recruits she could claim would be enough for her to turn her attention to Northrend, with or without the Horde’s help.

Of course, to the public eye the Apothecarium was an innocent research facility where she was trying to find a cure for the plague. All of her real interests were actually further underground beneath them, being tended to by alchemists who were so fanatical about their work she knew she could trust them to keep their secrets if they wished to continue their research.

In a moment of great irony, the Apothecarium was also where the shaman and druid trainers had decided to set up their academies within the city. On the edges of a zone dedicated to eradicating life to raise it as undead Forsaken, were a conclave of very much living tauren who were dedicated to the cultivation and protection of all life. She had allowed it as she figured they would report back to the Horde that Sylvanas was trying her best to help find a cure.

She wondered if they had any clue at all as to what the truth really was.

She doubted it. The giant bull-like humanoids were as gentle as they looked brutish. While they were formidable in battle, they preferred to see the good in all races, including the Forsaken. It had been their support that had fixed it so the Forsaken could join the Horde, so Sylvanas tried to cultivate at least some bilateral cooperation with the gentle giants. She had allowed a contingent of them to live in Undercity, while her people maintained a small presence in Thunderbluff, the Tauren capital city.

So when she saw Alyna suddenly step away from one of the seven-foot tall females in what appeared to be fear, the scene had her full attention, and she moved closer.

“I’m sorry,” started the female tauren, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Get away from me!” warned Alyna.

Kyala looked between the two with an expression of confusion on her face. The tauren held her hands up in a submissive gesture and backed away slowly, bowing her head. Kyala grabbed Alyna’s arm and dragged her away from the canals and into a side street that led to the inner ring of the city. Sylvanas followed.

Kyala pushed Alyna up against a wall. Alyna was still agitated, her fists clenching and relaxing as she paced slightly.

“What the hell was _that_ about?” Kyala demanded.

Sylvanas decided to drop her stealth at that moment, coming into view just off to their side. Her eyes were focused on the pacing Alyna. “Yes, what _was_ that about?”

Kyala’s head whipped around as she heard her queen and she snapped to attention, bringing her fist up to her unbeating heart in a salute. “Lady Sylvanas, I did not see you there.”

Sylvanas gave Kyala a quick glance that clearly stated that had been intentional before returning her attention to Alyna, who had stopped pacing. The newest ranger looked between Kyala and Sylvanas before eventually settling her eyes on the latter.

“I’m sorry, my Lady. It won’t happen again.” Her voice was calm, but Sylvanas could sense considerable effort behind the control.

Sylvanas let her irritation at still not having an explanation show. “And what did happen, exactly?”

Alyna shook her head slowly. “Nothing, my Lady. It’s fine.”

Kyala was visibly trying to restrain herself from saying something, and Sylvanas almost laughed at how obvious it was. Thankfully, the queen had no such need to hold back.

“That did not look like nothing, Alyna.”

Black eyes finally met Sylvanas’ red ones and the queen understood that Alyna had now fully composed herself.

“I’m just not used to tauren, my Lady. She … startled … me.”

Sylvanas was convinced Alyna had just lied to her, but only had her gut feeling as evidence. Without anything to challenge the statement, Sylvanas eventually just nodded her acceptance of the explanation.

“All right. As long as you keep your reactions in check, we’ll speak of this no further.” She looked between the two women before verbally dismissing them. “Carry on with your business.”

Alyna nodded gratefully and began to walk back to the canal.

Sylvanas grabbed Kyala’s upper arm to get her attention, and their eyes met briefly. She didn’t say anything to her ranger; she knew she didn’t have to. When she let the other woman go, she knew Kyala had understood what her queen wanted her to do …

… to find out what had spooked Alyna.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N - I heavily debated what happens in this chapter within myself, and with a couple of others. I've decided it helps the story too much to avoid it. I've also never been one to shy away from difficult topics. So, with that, there is a warning on this chapter for non-consensual sex/rape. I've put the warning just before it starts, so feel free to read until then. On a personal note, I unfortunately write on this topic from experience so please spare me any ignorant comments about how certain things are and are not possible. I don't normally hide or censor reviews but those absolutely will be.**

* * *

The skeletal horse beneath Sylvanas whinnied impatiently and she automatically patted the bones of its neck to calm it. Unlike humanoids, most animals that contracted the plague did not die and rise again. They just became undeath itself, and slowly rotted away to become skeletons. Most of these creatures were killed on sight, but the horses were still useful. No living horse would accept Sylvanas or her kind as a rider, so they saddled up the only horses who would. She didn't mind. Like her, they didn't need to eat, drink or sleep, so they were the perfect mount for the Forsaken. Her mount was probably sensing Sylvanas' own impatience. She was certainly not hiding it.

She snapped irritably at the heavily armoured Forsaken male standing next to her. "Get on with it, Executor. I haven't got all evening."

He nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, my Queen." He turned and issued some orders to a subordinate who hurried off.

Sylvanas resisted the urge to sigh. Her presence had been requested at the small town of Brill, a few hours north of Undercity. Every few months the army held a small parade in her honour to show her the newly graduated recruits. It wasn't much, but they were proud to serve her, and she typically tried to attend personally instead of sending a representative. It was routinely a new recruit's first glimpse of their queen, and she found it helped instil the fanaticism the rest of her people had for her into them. Considering the ultimate mission she was building the army for, it couldn't hurt to show her face every so often. Even if it did bore her deeply.

She heard them before she saw them, their booted feet stamping along the stone road that crossed through the town. Most wore ramshackle bits and pieces of heavy metal armour that clanked heavily against swords and shields, but she noted a few in this group appeared to be robed spellcasters carrying staves. _Good_ , she thought. Those were generally rare amongst the humans as they had not accepted magic as readily as the elves had. Still, she had been pleasantly surprised by how many had embraced their innate magical talent once they were freed from the Lich King's grasp, the cultural shackles of the living by then a distance memory.

As the last rank filed past proudly, she dismounted and walked into a building that had formerly been the town hall. Knowing the way, she led Executor Zygand, commander of her armed forces in Tirisfal Glades, to his own office.

Once there, he beamed at her gleefully. "We've got a good group this time, my Lady! Some have joined the local deathguard, but we'll be able to send most of them to the Bulwark."

She regarded him coolly. The Bulwark was a heavily fortified position to the east that was under constant attack from the Scourge in the plaguelands. It was a position they held precariously, and it had been a big source of frustration for the queen considering her plans to conquer Lordaeron.

"Their armour couldn't hold up against a stiff breeze, Executor. How do you expect them to survive a full assault on the Scourge?"

He hesitated before glancing towards a rack on the wall full of scrolls. "Well … uh … I've put in several requests for new equipment, or at least the base materials to make it ourselves, over the past few weeks. I actually have another ready to se—"

"Who did you send them to?" she interrupted.

"High Executor Derrington, my Lady," he promptly replied.

 _Who would have passed the requests he couldn't sanction on to Grand Executor Dillard, who was still languishing in her dungeon,_ she thought angrily. She had yet to select a replacement for him as her faith in her senior officers had been rocked by Alyna's revelations. She realised she should probably promote someone, and quickly. There was no telling what other damage Dillard had done that she had not immediately noticed for herself once she had dug into his records. It would appear her supply lines had been tampered with. She decided to pay Dillard a visit once she got back to Undercity.

"Give your request to my aide, and redo any communications you've made in the last few weeks you've not had a response to." She cursed Dillard silently. She was going to have order every single outpost she had to resubmit in the same fashion. She had managed to keep Dillard's treachery relatively quiet, but some of her outposts had Horde affiliates present, and the resubmissions would raise questions. The last thing she needed at the moment was the Horde's warchief questioning her ability to rule.

"Thank you, my Lady."

She looked at him emotionlessly before she left him to his work. The building now served as an inn of sorts, though it had been emptied out for the banshee queen's visit. She let her feet automatically guide her up the stairs and down a dark corridor to the furthest room. She knocked softly and let herself in to the empty room, her eyes taking in the dusty single cot, rotting wooden table and rickety chair. Cobwebs hung from every corner, barely visible as the setting sun struggled to shine through the almost opaque window. Cleaning was not a Forsaken trait.

As soon as she closed the door, Kyala dropped out of stealth before her. She had a dagger in her hand which she quickly sheathed before saluting her queen.

Sylvanas would have preferred to hold this meeting in her office in Undercity, but Brill was just her first stop on a tour of Tirisfal Glades that would last a few days. It had already been a week since the incident with the tauren, and her impatience over wanting news of Alyna had won the day. She had met Kyala here like this before, so the protocol was easy enough to arrange.

She opened her hands in a gesture she hoped was inviting as she ordered, "Report." When Kyala's first reaction was to frown, Sylvanas knew she was not going to get what she wanted. Sylvanas let out a sound of frustration and began to pace a few steps before she stopped before her subordinate. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Kyala.

"She's not letting me get close, Dark Lady."

"I told you not to let her out of your sight," Sylvanas fired back.

Kyala let her own frustration show in her gestures. "Well, yes, physically we've been close." Her eyes widened as Sylvanas' narrowed and she hurried to expand on her words, "As in, I've not let her out of my sight kind of close, not close-close as in what you and she had close … ahh … shit." Her shoulders dropped. "She's not talking to me about anything important, my Lady." She shook her head slowly. "I don't sense it's out of malice though."

Sylvanas raised a silver-blonde eyebrow. "Explain."

Kyala searched for her words before replying, "Most of her omissions feel as if she just believes nothing is gained by the retelling of it, which gives me the impression that none of it is tactically significant in her opinion. It's just personal information, and she is very much keeping all that to herself."

"It's for _me_ to judge what is tactically relevant to the Forsaken, personal or otherwise."

Kyala nodded without hesitation, "Quite so, Dark Lady, but that is something she does not recognise yet."

Sylvanas looked at Kyala carefully. "Are you saying she does not accept my authority?"

Realising how her words could be taken the wrong way, Kyala corrected herself. "No, my Lady. She has just not fully reconciled herself to the fact she is now starting over again at the bottom, and that her opinion is currently overruled by pretty much everyone else's. Especially yours."

"Especially mine?"

Kyala shifted uncomfortably. "She's always been smart, my Lady. She knows I'm spying on her, and she knows it's for you. I think her general mood has improved as a result of my presence, but will she open up to me? I doubt it."

Sylvanas mulled over her ranger's words. "You said 'most' of her omissions fall into that category. What of the others?"

"Shame, I believe." Kyala looked sad as she said the words. "She's ashamed of something, or lots of things. I could not even begin to hazard any guesses as to what."

Neither could Sylvanas, but then she was not capable of such a thing as shame anymore so she could not even try to empathise with Alyna to figure it out.

The banshee queen growled her irritation. "I don't suppose you have a solution to getting her to open up?" Sylvanas wanted to be able to fully trust Alyna again, but she couldn't if she couldn't figure out what was going on in her head. Kyala gave Sylvanas a strange look and it unsettled the queen briefly. "What?"

"With respect, my Lady, but have you thought about asking her yourself?" Kyala looked like she was ready to duck. It would seem Sylvanas' inability to accept personal advice was well known. She took it badly, for the most part.

This time, she was too stunned by the suggestion to react immediately, and Kyala relaxed, slightly.

"I did ask her," Sylvanas started, "after the incident with the tauren. She lied to me, I'm sure of it."

Kyala nodded her agreement before softly proposing, "Perhaps that was too soon afterwards for her to be able to talk about it? I was also there, and that may have put her off."

Sylvanas did not move as she held Kyala's gaze. She was not about to admit that the other woman had the only possible solution, primarily because she did not want to have those conversations with Alyna. She had repeatedly told herself the best place to get what she wanted was directly from the source, but there was something about reconnecting with Alyna on such a personal level that deeply unsettled her. She wanted to avoid it, and had hoped Kyala could have acted as a protective buffer between them. That was looking less and less likely with every passing moment.

Not wanting to confront the issue any further for now, she did what she was good at – she changed the subject.

"How's her training coming along?"

Used to her queen's conversational tangents, Kyala took the redirection in her stride. "Erratically, but she should be ready to be assigned to a unit in a week or two. She is picking some things up almost absurdly easy, but struggling with others. There's no real pattern to it, so Talnia is having a hard time planning her training."

Sylvanas dropped her head and allowed herself to sigh with uncontained exasperation. "She's not a banshee, Kyala. Has that not occurred to anyone? She won't be adapting to things in the same way we had to." Kyala blinked in stunned silence, which managed to irritate Sylvanas even further. She snapped at the statuesque ranger angrily, "I'd have expected Talnia not to be able to see past her own arrogance and hatred for Alyna to see that small but significant fact about my latest recruit, but what's your excuse?"

"I … I have none, Dark Lady," Kyala stammered. "I thought Talnia had it all in hand and never questioned her methods."

"And what _precisely_ are these methods?"

"The same as you used on us, my Lady, as far as I can tell." Sylvanas could see Kyala was not quite finished, and waited patiently for the ranger to continue. "Though, there's an atmosphere between them that leads me to believe it was different before I arrived. Neither of them have said anything, exactly, but their visual exchanges and snide remarks allude to something I am not aware of, so it must have happened before I arrived."

Sylvanas gritted her teeth before eventually dismissing the observation out of hand. "They probably had a fight. Or two. I can't say it would surprise me if they did, but that is a discipline issue for Talnia to sort out. As long as Alyna's training has not been adversely affected, I won't interfere. You, however, will bring it to Talnia's attention that Alyna's unique physiology may require her to adapt our basic training techniques to accommodate her."

"And if she dismisses my observation, my Lady?"

" _Then_ you bring it to me. Talnia's not stupid though. She knows you're one of my personal agents." While all of the rangers ultimately answered directly to Sylvanas, the queen had a few select rangers who performed delicate missions for her on a regular basis. All three captains were aware of who most of them were so as not to get in their way if they were actively on a mission, as Kyala was on currently. While the captains out-ranked the rangers Sylvanas used, they were acting directly on their queen's orders, and the punishment for hindering them would be severe.

Kyala nodded her understanding.

Sylvanas belatedly noticed the sun had fully set. It was time for her to move on to her next destination. She gave Kyala a disappointed look.

"I have placed you at Alyna's side to be my eyes and ears, Kyala. I expect more from you the next time we meet."

Kyala stood to attention. "Yes, Dark Lady."

Sylvanas left her agent alone in the room. She had not needed to chastise Kyala, especially as it seemed like there was nothing more the woman could have done. However, she could not reward failure either, even if it was a rare failure for the talented ranger. She knew Kyala would know that, and would go back to Alyna with more determination than ever to please her queen.

Now she just had to figure out if she could bring herself to have a heart to heart with the last person on Azeroth she wanted to have such a conversation with.

* * *

Alyna walked slowly through the ruins of the former capital city of Lordaeron. Talnia had ordered her here for the next part of her training, but she was not entirely sure what her captain intended. Normally, she was given a short brief on what she was to do when she got to her destination, but not this time. She was also unfamiliar with this part of the ruins, and she was hot. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was warming her to uncomfortable levels. She would have enjoyed such a warm day in life, but her undead body was better suited to colder climates. It was another reminder of how different she was now.

She didn't even have Kyala to moan to; the constantly animated woman off on some mission of her own. She had no idea how Kyala even felt like being cheerful, let alone maintain the attitude almost indefinitely. She found it annoying and entertaining in equal measure. Most of the time it was refreshing to have someone actually make jokes and smile. Other times she just wanted to be allowed to brood and be left alone. That was one thing Kyala had not done until now – left her alone. As frustrating as it had been occasionally, it had made her training a little more pleasant. Talnia had ceased with her 'black arrows', as the rangers called the painful ability, and with anything else that could be considered physical abuse.

Although grateful, it had confirmed Alyna's suspicion that Kyala was spying for Sylvanas. While she was most likely there to report on Alyna, Talnia was behaving herself in the event Kyala felt like reporting on her as well. She was happy for her old friend that Sylvanas had taken her into her inner circle, but she hated the chasm it now created between them. The only secrets Alyna had would be those she kept to herself. Any doubts she aired, any uncertainties she needed to talk through would need to be done in her own mind, because as soon as she told anyone within the Forsaken it would eventually get back to Sylvanas.

Alyna ducked into what looked to be a disused bakery to get out of the sun. Small chalk signs sat on a counter advertising various delicacies and their prices. The trays were empty; their contents having long rotted away or been scavenged. She moved around the counter to the back room. Two large stone ovens stood cold and dusty along the back wall, before which were two long wooden tables. Tools of the trade were scattered in seemingly chaotic positions, but she had seen enough of this in the rest of the ruins to understand what had happened. They had been dropped mid-use as their owners had fled from the onslaught of death Arthas had unleashed after murdering his father, King Terenas. Most of the city had been ostensibly frozen in time that day, the stories of the ordinary people of Lordaeron forever paused in one moment of unbelievable treachery and violence. She knew the same had happened to her own nation, Quel'Thalas. Most of the south was still overrun by Scourge after the villages had been rapidly abandoned six years ago as the rangers had retreated north with as many civilians as they could take with them.

Alyna was so engrossed in the past, she failed to notice the shadow behind her before it was too late. The blow to the back of her head was vicious, and she grunted as she fell across the closest table to send a long-handled rusting baker's shovel clattering to the floor. A part of her mind decided to highlight a faint dark-brown stain beneath her where someone else had also been attacked in this spot years before. She tried to gather herself enough to cast a repulsing spell against her attacker, but she was too slow. The next blow came quickly, and she felt the darkness envelope her.

* * *

**Trigger warning: non-consensual sex**

Alyna struggled against her restraints. She had woken moments before to find her hands shackled above her head, and her ankles also bound to posts. She was on an old iron bed, and she was also very naked. A flash of fear had momentarily overcome her and she had tried to teleport herself away, but there was something preventing her from using her magic. Frantically, she tugged her wrists down as hard as she could in an effort to break free.

A low chuckle sounded and she looked down her body to the door to the room. Talnia filled the frame, her smirk widening as she saw the surprised look on Alyna's face.

It took Alyna a moment to get over the shock of who had attacked her, but when she did she was furious. "What the fuck is this, Talnia?"

"Come now, Alyna," Talnia purred as she moved slowly beside the bed, trailing a gloved finger up Alyna's leg and body. "Your naivety was almost cute all those years ago, but even you can't be so dense you don't recognise this for what it is."

Alyna blinked in stunned surprise. "You want to … rape me?"

Talnia laughed at her. "You _belong_ to me, Alyna – I can do what I want. When Sylvanas placed you in my company she gave you to me, body and soul. You serve her, through me. And what I require of my rangers is quite rigorous, in all things." She moved to stand at the bottom of the bed. She made no effort to disguise her desire as she removed her gauntlets, and also her anger at her next words. "We're nothing but implements of war to her, Alyna. _Tools_ for her vengeance against Arthas. I give my rangers a chance to be more than that … to be women again."

"You think sleeping with them whether they want you or not _empowers_ them?" she asked incredulously.

The captain shrugged casually. "It empowers those who embrace what they are, yes. We're dead, but we still have the ability to enjoy our bodies and take back something of what was taken from us."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alyna was genuinely confused.

Talnia cocked her head slightly as she assessed Alyna's question. "I suppose you've not felt it yet, then." She gave Alyna a smirk, "No doubt because of your _'unique physiology'_ Kyala so subtly brought to my attention." She moved up the other side of the bed, her bare fingers tracing patterns along Alyna's body as she spoke. To Alyna's horror, her body responded slightly. Her body's idea of sensation was normally dull but the nerve endings in her skin now practically sang at Talnia's attention as the other woman spoke. "The Lich King has the ability to manipulate different aspects of our souls, as you know. He likes to enhance our more negative traits, at the expense of positive ones. But it seems he cannot remove everything he considers undesirable, and what he cannot remove, he suppresses with his considerable will. The Scourge have no use for procreation, but our baser instincts are inextricably linked to our sex drive. Now you're free, it will return to you. Nothing comes from denying it."

"I'm not denying anything!" Alyna cried, panic now rising in her chest as she struggled again against the manacles around her wrists. Even as she said the words she realised they were now false. She had not felt any physical need other than her hunger, but what Talnia was doing to her was kick starting her body into other ideas. Her nipples were already hard.

"That won't do much good. The manacles are enchanted to stop you from using your magic, and the bed is quite solid." She smiled slowly. "It's been tested on others as strong as you."

She continued to manipulate Alyna's body with what the restrained ranger recognised to be considerable skill. "You're a hypocrite, doing this to me," she spat.

It made Talnia pause briefly as she tried to place the comment. "Because of how I felt about you and Sylvanas?" Alyna's glare was enough to confirm the guess. Talnia chuckled. "You really are naïve aren't you? I have nothing against fucking women." A self-satisfied smirk found its way onto her face. "As you can no doubt tell, I'm no stranger to the concept." Her hand was trailing slowly down Alyna's abdomen towards the juncture between her legs. Alyna tried to shrug the other woman away but could not move enough to do so.

Talnia ignored her, continuing her explanation, and exploration. "I had nothing against either of you when it was just you two romping around every dark corner of the forest. Trust me when I say, most of us would have loved to have been in your place." Her features creased into a scowl. "What I could not tolerate was your blatant disregard for Quel'dorei tradition when you both turned your back on your family obligations. You both could have married others and maintained your little tryst in the shadows, but what did either of you care about the stability of our society? You threw it all selfishly back in our faces!"

When the violation came, Alyna managed not to cry out. She had wanted to glare at Talnia as she did what she wanted, to let her know what she was doing was unwelcome. Instead, she had closed her eyes and turned away. She cursed herself. She was no stranger to coping with having her body used, but somehow this was different. Her body was responding to the woman's attentions against her own will. She tried to fight the rising tide inside her, tried to push it down and ignore the increasing need for release.

It was not enough. When Talnia forced the orgasm from her, she rode it silently, not giving Talnia the satisfaction of hearing her moan. It was bad enough the woman could do this to her. She was not going to give her anything else.

Talnia chuckled so close to her ear it startled her, but she kept her face away from the woman as she listened to her words. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" She heard an almost wistful sigh. "Still, you're not as fun as your former fiancée."

That got a reaction from Alyna. She turned her head to stare at the woman who had just violated her.

Talnia laughed. "Oh? You don't know?" She trailed wet fingers across Alyna's abdomen, tracing the scar Frostmourne had left in its wake. "After we freed ourselves from Arthas and regained our bodies, we were all quite overcome by our new found desire. As, I might add, you will be when your time comes." She smiled hungrily. "Don't worry, I'll be here to help you through it." She chuckled at her own thoughts. "Anyway, most of us tried to control our lust but it was all consuming. Sylvanas was also affected … and your beloved came to _me_ to sate her needs."

Alyna had no reply, even as Talnia began to remove her leg armour, boots and leggings. It wasn't until when the other woman straddled her that Alyna was shocked out of her thoughts. She could smell the woman's excitement and she turned her head away.

"You've had your way, but I'm not going to service you," she growled at the captain.

Talnia grabbed a handful of Alyna's white hair and jerked her head up so she could make eye contact. "Oh, but you _will_ if you want me to say you're fit to serve as a dark ranger." Her smile was cruel. "There's more than one way to serve, dear Alyna, and this is one test you absolutely must pass to get my recommendation." She tapped the side of Alyna's face mockingly. "And don't get smart with those fangs of yours. Not … yet, anyway." She winked at the dull black eyes staring up at her.

Alyna closed her eyes and felt her body go limp as she gave in to her despair.


	9. Chapter 9

Despite it being well after midnight, the ground Alyna sat on hugging her crossed legs was still warm. There were a few clouds in the sky, but not enough to block out the night’s half-moon from illuminating the carnage that surrounded her. Talnia had released her just after sunset, and she had run off into the forest. She had no idea where she was, but her self-loathing and fury had finally eased enough for her to think clearly.

The humans around her were not so lucky. The dozen or so men, women and children were from a nearby hamlet. She had no clue why they had been camping out around the modest bonfire, probably for some inane human festival, but when she had accidentally run into them … she had lost control. She hadn’t even been able to stop herself to feed. They lay torn to pieces around her, and she had been unable to leave. She had just sat there, rocking back and forth.

She desperately wished she could cry. She had hated crying while alive, but it had always made her feel better by acting as an emotional release. At the very least, it was generally a healthier alternative to murder. She buried her face in her hands and let out a dry sob of despair.

She was also slightly drunk, though rapidly sobering up. She had found various drinks in the camp, and had downed them all in an effort to remove the taste of her captain from her mouth. She only realised after she had finished that most were alcoholic, and that her body was somehow capable of absorbing enough of it to make her drunk. It was a day of firsts, it would seem.

Her mind was slowly reordering itself, and she was struggling to cope with what she was recalling. She had mentally retreated during the rest of the ordeal Talnia had put her through in an effort to preserve herself. It had the effect of almost separating her mind from her body while it was being abused. Now it was over, she was trying to slowly process what had happened in a manner that didn’t cause her any more damage than had already been done. She hated that she was in this position again. It was how she had maintained her sanity through years of torture. She had never thought she would have to make use of the technique again after she had left the Scourge, but here she was, and she wasn’t sure if she could cope with it now she was free.

If only it was just her mind she had to look after. She could still feel Talnia’s hands toying with her body, along with echoes of her laugh. While her skin still crawled, it also hummed with a faint undercurrent of arousal that simultaneously disgusted her. If Talnia had been right in what she’d said about the Lich King suppressing her sex drive, and that it would return with interest, this was only going to be the start of her problems. Even worse, Talnia knew about it, and would be waiting. Perhaps it was always going to happen even if Talnia had not interfered, but she would have vastly preferred that over what happened.

A faint noise behind her made her jump. She should have stood up and challenged whatever was there, but she suddenly realised she didn’t care. Her dim hope that it was a human hunting party coming for her head disappeared when a familiar form walked around into her field of vision.

Kyala gave her a perplexed look, and did not immediately say anything as she took in the shattered remains of the people Alyna had killed. When she did speak, she did not hide her concern.

“What happened here?”

Alyna’s voice was quiet, and raw. “Where were you?”

Kyala blinked at the accusation. “I … had something I had to do.”

Alyna grit her teeth as she angrily repeated her question. “Where. Were. You?”

The normally pleasant ranger frowned at Alyna before flatly stating, “You’re not my captain anymore, Alyna. I do not answer to you, and I do not have to explain myself to you either.”

“No,” snapped Alyna, “You answer to _her_.” She was fairly sure she just slightly slurred her words, but she didn’t care. She laughed mockingly. “Was she displeased with you when you couldn’t tell her anything? That’s where you’ve been, right? Reporting back like a loyal dog?”

Kyala did not physically react to her tone, but she knew the woman well despite their years apart and subsequent deaths. Kyala’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly in anger.

Alyna waved the other woman away. “Leave me alone.”

“Not until you tell me what happened.”

“Nothing you want to know.” She laughed bitterly. “Or rather, nothing _she_ wants to know, because talking to you is tantamount to talking to our Lady Sylvanas, isn’t it? Do you tell her everything, Kyala? Does she know who you fuck, as well?”

Kyala pointedly ignored the taunting and stiffly strolled around the campsite. “You lost control,” she observed emotionlessly as she tapped an empty bottle with her booted toe. “Was that before or after you got drunk?”

Alyna laughed, and even to her own ears she sounded a little crazy. “Ooooo you’re good. I can see why she uses you to spy on me.”

“You cannot give in to your anger, Alyna. It’ll consume you.”

“You think I’m _angry?_ ” Alyna stood up slowly, and as she did so, dark shadowflame flared up out of the torn body parts around her. “I’m fucking _furious!_ ” she shouted.

More flames leapt up from the tents and Kyala began to look uncomfortable as she backed away from the heat of the fires. She turned to regard Alyna coldly. “If you attack me … you can forget about being a ranger again.”

Alyna spun around on the spot as she yelled to the trees. “Is that all anyone here can come up with?! Threats and ultimatums?!” She turned to lock eyes with her former friend, her voice now condescending. “ _‘Do what I say so you can get what you want’_ , except you all _conveniently_ forget to mention that it will cost me _everything_ in the process!”

Kyala’s jaw had dropped at her display. She asked almost softly, “What the hell happened while I was gone?”

The note of genuine concern hit Alyna hard. Her flames did not disappear, but they did not burn as hotly as they had, making the temperature more comfortable. She turned to watch them flicker as they consumed the evidence of her violence.

“You came here for a reason,” Alyna said emptily. “What do you want?”

Kyala shook her head in disbelief at the last few minutes before she composed herself enough to reply. “You weren’t at the barracks. Talnia sent me to find you to continue your training.” She paused and looked around. “If … that’s what you still want.”

_Was that what she still wanted? Was all of this worth it?_ Talnia had made it very clear this had not been a one off encounter. Was she willing to submit to the violation and humiliation the captain was sure to put her through to be a ranger again, and then remain one?

Over a century ago, she had told her magically talented family she had no interest or talent in magic, and that she wanted to become a ranger. Her father had been disappointed. Her mother had told her it was a hard life to choose, possibly the hardest possible, in an effort to dissuade her daughter. She would have to make great sacrifices, and do things she did not necessarily want to do to become a ranger. Her mother had asked her if she was willing to do what it took to be successful. She had been, and realising she was serious, they had forbidden her from applying to the Farstriders. She did it anyway, and she had then done everything they had asked of her, and more.

_Was she still willing? What else was there if she wasn’t?_

The truth was, she didn’t know the answers to either question, and until she did, she figured Talnia would have to behave herself as long as Kyala was around. She would have time to make a decision without jeopardising her future if she chose to remain a ranger.

Wordlessly, she turned and began to walk in the direction she thought might take her back to Undercity. Behind her, one of the tents collapsed in on itself as her fires subsided. She could feel Kyala watching her before the other woman followed silently.

After a few minutes, Kyala quipped, “You don’t know where you’re going, do you.”

“Not a goddamn clue.”

Kyala chuckled and took the lead, adjusting their heading. Alyna felt her shoulders relax for the first time in hours. She followed in silence, and she was thankful that Kyala did not try to strike up one of her many aimless conversations. Eventually, it was Alyna who spoke first.

“How did you find me?”

Kyala glanced at her warily. “What I found you with were not the only corpses you’ve left in your wake tonight. I just followed the trail.”

“Oh,” Alyna managed to reply numbly.

“They were mostly animals,” Kyala added in some vague attempt to help Alyna feel better.

Alyna stared at the ground as they walked. “I promised Syl— … Lady Sylvanas … that I would not attack the local humans.”

“I know.” Long moments of silence stretched by before Kyala quietly said, “Perhaps, she doesn’t have to hear about this, just this one time.”

Alyna looked up at her escort, her voice laced with suspicion. “And what would you have in return for such a favour?”

Kyala stopped abruptly and turned to face Alyna, her red eyes flaring angrily. The reaction was brief, and she quickly composed herself. Presently, she shook her head sadly. “Nothing, Alyna. I want nothing from you, though I wish you’d trust me again.”

“Trust is earned,” Alyna bluntly replied.

“Yes, yes it is. And you are not trusted yet by the only person who matters. Everything else is meaningless if you don’t resolve that, and soon.”

“Is that why you’re glued to my ass? Because Lady Sylvanas doesn’t trust me?” Kyala raised a dark eyebrow and continued their walk back to Undercity without answering. Alyna jogged to catch up. “How do I go about getting an audience with her?”

“To do what, exactly?”

“To talk to her.” Alyna thought that much was obvious.

“About?”

“Stuff. Things. I’m not sure. Whatever she wants to know, I suppose.”

Kyala snorted her amusement. “Good luck with that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The other woman still sounded amused. “It means the Dark Lady is not good at chit chats that have even a remote chance of getting personal.”

Alyna grinned fondly. “She never was when she was alive, either.”

Kyala mirrored the grin. “True.” She let the word hang between them before she added, “She’s away for a few days, but I’ll see what I can do when she gets back. I can’t promise anything though.”

Their conversation ceased, though the atmosphere was less strained between them. After another twenty minutes Kyala stopped and looked off through the trees in a different direction. She turned to Alyna.

“Look, I get that you’re not going to tell me what happened earlier, though I hope you eventually change your mind about that. I’m ultimately here to help you succeed, Alyna.” She shook her head slightly, “Please don’t make me regret not mentioning your activities out here tonight.”

“I’ll … try,” was all Alyna could manage. She very much wanted to promise, but after failing in her word to Sylvanas, how could she feel confident in pledging the same to Kyala?

Kyala did not seem comfortable with not getting a complete promise, but she realised it was all she was going to get. She sighed. “Are you hungry? It didn’t look like you gave yourself time to eat back there.”

Alyna closed her eyes and nodded briefly. She still had issues with admitting to her hunger around others. She felt it made her weak in their eyes.

“There should be some scarlets down here. Or somewhere near. I passed them earlier while looking for you.” Kyala did not wait for her as she pressed into the trees.

Reluctantly, Alyna followed, food not the only thing she was now keenly aware of being hungry for.

* * *

 

Sylvanas tapped the dry nib of her quill rhythmically against her desk, deep in thought. She was distracted, and she hated being distracted. Her planned tour of various outposts had been as dull as expected, but her troops had been delirious at seeing her. She wished she could say the same for them. They were a shambles. Their equipment was poorly maintained, and spare parts had been rare. They all had told her the same story she had found in Brill – requests had been put in, and then disappeared into thin air.

_Dillard._

She had paid him a visit when she had got back from the tour. He had personally felt her displeasure at his actions for several hours before even that bored her. His sanity had already been broken some time ago, so he was mostly useless as a source of information. She had then made her way to the blacksmiths in the war quarter, and what she had found there had resulted in her unleashing an angry banshee scream. Dillard had not stopped the requisitions of weapons and armour; he had just ordered them stored instead of deployed, which explained why she had not immediately detected it. She now had several officers running around trying to get the stores shipped out to where they were needed.

She still had to decide on who would be her new grand executor. She stared at the parchment her aide had drawn up earlier that day in order to seal the promotion. All that was missing, was a name, and her signature.

She was torn between a high executor who had been with her since the founding of the Forsaken five years ago, and a relatively young executor who was rapidly making a name for herself within Silverpine forest. He was dependable, but was very much a believer in conventional tactics that the living clung to, primarily out of habit rather than morality. The female executor had been thrown into fighting against the vicious worgen, who were crazed humanoid wolves that had come out of seemingly nowhere. Her imaginative tactics had helped to keep the threat at bay, and Sylvanas was tempted to put her skills to use across all of her lands instead of just a small part of it. It would cause a stir to promote the executor above her current superiors, but Sylvanas was sure she could scare the high executors into obedience. As always.

She was generally not one to give in to impulse, but she finally dipped the nib in ink and scratched a name into the gap, and then signed it at the bottom. She picked up the ink blotter and rolled it over the fresh ink to dry it in place, and then rolled up the parchment. She dripped black wax onto it, and then used her personal signet ring to stamp her authority on the decree. She then repeated the process five more times on prepared copies before she summoned her aide. Once he had shuffled away to send her announcement to all those who needed to hear it, she rose from her chair and strode over to the far side of her office.

A large solid table had been pushed up against the wall, though it was normally pulled away from it slightly to allow access to all sides. It was her map table, and it currently held a large map of the continent of Northrend. It was the only vaguely accurate one she had managed to find, and even then she was sure it was riddled with errors. It was already riddled with holes where some kind of insect had attacked it. A large box sat under the table with various types of figures that could be used to plot the positions of her military, the enemy, and points of interest. They had sat in there for years gathering dust, and her map was embarrassingly empty.

It was time to change that.

She had planned to order Alyna into her office for an official debrief with regards to what to expect in Northrend, but she had been advised by Talnia to leave it until her training was over. The suggestion had made sense, and she had bit down on her impatience. But the empty map had taunted her silently. She could have called in any of the death knights, she knew, but while she didn’t trust Alyna implicitly she was still more inclined to accept her word over any death knight’s. From what she understood of Alyna’s former position, she was also the best person to ask.

Her hunger for revenge against Arthas welled within her chest and she decided to see if Alyna was in the city.

Decision made, she left her office and entered her throne room. In her haste, she almost collided with the last creature most would expect to find in her throne room – a dreadlord. When Sylvanas had broken free from Arthas, she had struck a deal with the three dreadlords who had controlled the Scourge in Lordaeron for their demonic lord. She had known they would betray her, and once she had returned to the ruins after trying to sail to Northrend, she had been right. But, she had been ready. In their negotiations, she had sensed that one of the dreadlords, Varimathras, could be manipulated to see things her way, and it had worked. She had cornered him with her new fledgling army, and he had begged for his life. He had even killed one of his brothers to prove his loyalty to her. These days, he acted as her chief advisor, and he took over the running of Undercity while she was away.

She ducked under his large wing and he gave her a curious look, not having expected her. She ignored him and left her throne room towards the Apothecarium. As was customary for her, she stealthed herself before she left the royal quarter. She crossed the canal at the nearest bridge, and was about to head north towards the war quarter when she heard an all too familiar cry of alarm.

_Alyna!_

She spun around and ran towards the raised voices, managing to weave her way through the growing throng of people without breaking her stealth. She realised the crowd were gathering near the local herbalist trainers. She frowned slightly. The herbalists were next door to where the tauren had set up their homes.

Her fear was eventually realised when she entered the area. She had not been able to get through the crowd here without dropping her stealth. The moment she did, the crowd went deathly quiet and parted for her. She strode confidently through them to the sight before her. She could see a pair of male tauren bent over a prone female with moderate burns on her face and arms. Alyna was being held aside by two rangers – Cleo, who regularly patrolled the city, and Kyala. Each of them had one hand on Alyna, and another on a drawn sword, and Sylvanas was not sure whether their swords were to keep the crowd back, or to control Alyna.

Her red eyes met Alyna’s coldly for a moment before the other woman turned away, so the queen turned her attention towards the tauren. A second female tauren approached her as the males tended to their charge.

“Lady Sylvanas, we are gratified to see you.”

The queen regarded the woman with a detached air as she searched her memory for the woman’s name. “What happened here, Mala?”

The normally soft-spoken druid trainer growled angrily. “That ranger of yours attacked Mahala without provocation! We demand she be dealt with.”

Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed. “You … demand?”

Mala’s own eyes widened at her realisation. “My apologies, Lady Sylvanas. The suddenness of the attack has me addled. We request that the matter be investigated and the ranger be disciplined accordingly for her disproportionate actions.”

Sylvanas looked at the more than singed tauren on the floor. She had not moved since Sylvanas had arrived. “Is she dead?”

Her bluntness did not sit well with Mala, though Sylvanas couldn’t care less about that. It was the tauren’s choice to live around the Forsaken and they didn’t soften their words for anyone.

“No, Dark Lady. Just unconscious from the pain. She was … set on fire.” It took her considerable effort to swallow whatever emotion she was feeling before she continued. “She will make a full physical recovery, though we may need to request Thunderbluff send a new shaman trainer.”

Sylvanas gave the woman a brief nod. “I’ll handle this.” She turned to walk towards Alyna, cutting off any reply Mala may have made. Alyna’s eyes were still cast down, but it was clear she sensed her queen’s approach as her body stiffened. Sylvanas cut her eyes between Kyala and Cleo and she said tersely, “With me, all of you.”

She turned on her heel and made her way back to the royal quarter, the walk thankfully brief. As she entered her throne room, she barked her next order loudly, “Everyone out! Now!” Various ambassadors, dignitaries and citizens immediately moved towards the main doors. Once they were gone, Sylvanas gestured for the royal dreadguard to leave as well.

Once she stood before her throne, Sylvanas turned to Varimathras and glared at him. He hesitated a moment before bowing to his queen. He whispered a few words in his native demonic tongue and disappeared into one of his portals, leaving Sylvanas with her three rangers. She met Kyala’s eyes evenly and the advice the woman had given her came to mind. She reluctantly accepted the woman’s wisdom, and dismissed both Cleo and Kyala. Cleo had initially hesitated, but was encouraged to leave by Kyala. Sylvanas understood the reluctance as, like a good ranger, she would have seen Alyna as a threat.

Perhaps she was.

“Look at me,” she ordered.

Dull black eyes met her own red ones and she realised there was something different in them, though she had no idea what or why. It was almost as if they were not as alive as they had been the last time they had spoken. She realised that had been over two weeks ago.

“You lied to me.” Alyna did not reply, so Sylvanas continued. “You said it was nothing. What I just saw, was not nothing.” She stepped towards Alyna, her position on the dais providing her with a significant height advantage. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

The sullen words struck her like a blow to her stomach. She moved to within inches of her subordinate, her words an angry hiss. “I am your Queen! _Everything_ is my concern.”

Something flashed in Alyna’s eyes in that moment before she broke their eye contact and began to walk slowly around the dais. Ordinarily, Sylvanas would have taken this as an affront to her authority, but this was behaviour she attributed to the old Alyna; the woman she had known when they had been alive. And together. Alyna had never been able to stand still when she was in deep thought. She let the woman pace.

“Talnia sent me to see one of the apothecaries outside the city,” started Alyna. Her voice was distant, almost detached. “She told me to do whatever tasks he needed doing. So, I have been. I’ve killed bats for their fur, some canine-type creatures for their teeth, and retrieved dozens of eyeballs from untainted spiders.” She turned to make sure Sylvanas could see her displeasure as well as hear it. “Fitting tasks for someone of my skills and accomplishments, don’t you think?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Next, he wanted some mushrooms. But not just any mushrooms that anyone can pick, but some fancy glowing ones that can even kill me if I harvest them incorrectly. Do I look like a specialist herbalist?” She laughed hollowly. “I haven’t a clue how to harvest such things so I came into the city to learn. While that was happening, the tauren who I had expressly told last week to leave me alone, would not leave me be.”

“So you attacked her,” Sylvanas finished.

“I _defended_ myself!”

“You set her on fire!”

Alyna paused. Her next words came so quietly Sylvanas had to strain to hear them. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What is it about the tauren that unsettles you so much, or is it just that particular one? And if you tell me it’s nothing or none of my business one more time I swear you’ll be spending time in my dungeons.”

She could see Alyna’s jaw working furiously as she contemplated her options. In a move that surprised the queen, Alyna suddenly let her body go limp and she sank to the floor to sit on the cold stone. She hugged her legs to her chest tightly and rested her forehead on her knees. Despite having no need to breathe, Sylvanas could see her back rising and falling as the woman tried to contain … what? Fear? Anxiety? She was baffled. How was an undead elf having a panic attack?

Her positon on the dais now felt wrong somehow, so she moved closer to Alyna and sat down on the large step.

Alyna slowly regained her control, but did not raise her head from her knees. Consequently, her voice sounded muffled through her mask and her tight position.

“Have you heard of the taunka?”

Sylvanas started to shake her head before she realised Alyna could not see the gesture. “No.”

“Northrend is not the dead frozen continent everyone here assumes it is. The taunka are one of the sentient races that inhabit it.”

Sylvanas made what she thought was a logical connection between recent events, and the similarities in their names. “And they look like the tauren.”

“Yes,” Alyna replied numbly. “They’ve some distant ancestor in common or something, but they are very much alike.”

“What about them?” Sylvanas prompted, trying not to sound too eager at the prospect of getting information about Northrend. That was why she had sought Alyna out in the first place, after all.

Alyna visibly shuddered and did not reply immediately. “I know you think I didn’t try to break free from him, but I did. Frequently. For a couple of years.”

“I —” started Sylvanas.

“Please don’t deny it.” She had been about to do just that, but she stopped. Alyna continued her train of thought, a myriad of emotions occasionally tinging her otherwise devoid tone. “He had put a collar on me that kept me magically tethered to my station in northern Icecrown. I managed to break it one day, and I ran. When he realised I was gone I could feel him trying to control me, but I resisted his control. When he went quiet, I thought I had broken his command over me. I could no longer feel his whispers.”

Alyna’s fists clenched as she tried to control her unnecessary breathing again. “I made it to the south coast of the continent. There was a fishing village on the tundra occupied by the taunka, and despite my fearsome sight, they let me in. They were wary at first, but I was not the first free Scourge they had encountered. They even helped me to design a boat and find the material to build it.” She paused. “It was horrendous to look at, but with their help it was seaworthy. They threw a feast for me, though they understood I could not eat anything. They insisted it was necessary to bless the boat.”

She looked up at Sylvanas, and the queen had not seen her black eyes as dead as they were in that moment.

“And then I heard _him_. Louder than ever before. It was as if my mind shook with the force of his voice. It was agonising.” She bit her lip. “Apparently, I had become predictable in how I tried to escape from him, and he had decided to use this to teach me a lesson. He made me slaughter every last one of the adults, leaving those I had become closest to for last so they could see the monster they had accepted into their village. He made me feed from the children while they were still conscious so I could hear their screams. And then, because he could, he had me take all the infants to the beach when the tide was low, and lay them on the sand. They were covered in their parents’ blood and he had me stand there and watch as the tide came in. He had me spare the village chief, so he could warn the others about me so I would be feared, and so any refuge I may need one day would be refused.”

She dropped her forehead back down to her knees, utterly spent. “I did not resist him again after that.”

Sylvanas’ mouth felt dry, which was ridiculous because it was now always dry. For some reason her body felt now was the time for her to notice. For all of her own brutality and ruthlessness, Sylvanas knew that even she was not capable of doing what Arthas had forced Alyna to do.

“So, it’s your guilt that drives your reaction to the tauren?”

Alyna laughed coldly, surprising the queen. “Guilt? I feel no guilt for my actions as most know it. I have no conscience left to feel guilty with. But I can still feel pain, and what I did that day has left deep wounds.”

“Explain,” Sylvanas ordered bluntly.

She found herself looking into Alyna’s eyes again, and they appeared a little stronger as she replied. “When he killed you, he took a sliver of your soul to bind you to Frostmourne. The rest, he twisted into what you are … a banshee.” Sylvanas inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement of the fact. “When he killed _me_ , he tore my soul apart. My conscience, my love, my compassion … everything that was remotely good and decent about who I was … resides in Frostmourne.” Alyna sighed. “Unfortunately, one does not have to feel guilt to suffer trauma. Or to feel sorry for yourself. I can still become attached to people. I can still suffer personal loss. I fear for myself, for what he has made me into and for what I can become. And, I can still hold myself responsible for my actions, it would seem.”

“Your reaction to the tauren is part of a traumatic response?”

“Something like that.” Alyna tilted her head as she tried to clarify her thoughts. “They make me nervous. I suppose part of me expects the spirits of their distant ancestors to come screaming out of them to take revenge for what I did.”

“I … see.” She thought the analogy was a little dramatic, but even she had seen some strange things that the tauren had attributed to their ancestral spirits. She had decided years ago not to mess with such things.

She looked at Alyna for a long while before she came to a decision. She stood from the step and made her way back to her throne. “You will go to the tauren and apologise to the one you attacked as soon as she is able to see you.”

“What?” Alyna looked up at her in shock.

But Sylvanas was not done.

“You will then tell them everything you have just told me.”

Alyna leapt to her feet so fast that if she’d been living she would have immediately fainted.

“No!”

Sylvanas was in no mood for disobedience. “You _will_ go to the tauren and explain yourself, or you will have plenty of time to contemplate your life, and death, in my dungeon. Your choice.”

Alyna was shaking with her barely restrained fury, and some spark had finally returned to her eyes. While Sylvanas was relieved the woman was not pouring her partial-soul out on her floor anymore, she knew that an angry Alyna had its own challenges.

“I cannot have you walking around like a goblin’s ticking bomb. If you don’t confront your problems and move past them, you are useless to me.” Sylvanas narrowed her eyes. “Do you understand?”

Alyna’s reply came through gritted teeth. “Yes.” Sylvanas stared at Alyna until she corrected herself. “Yes, my Lady.”

She nodded. “Good. Then go present yourself to the tauren and do not leave until you have said your piece. Then you can return to your … mushrooms.”

Alyna took her cue to leave, and did so abruptly.

Sylvanas momentarily wondered if she had just done the right thing. She then dismissed the notion. She then went to her office to see if she could finally put a piece or two on her map.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N – Just a wee update on timeline here. This chapter starts 42 days after chapter 1, and it has been 23 days since Sylvanas and Alyna were reunited in chapter 4. I’ve tried to incorporate the passing of time into things but I’ve either been too subtle, or I just suck at it. I’ll try to be clearer. I’m aware that things in the game moved faster than this. Well, this is my pace :)**

* * *

_Two days later …_

Alyna seethed silently as she rode her skeletal horse, bent forward in her saddle as they galloped down the side of a paved road. They would have taken the road itself, however the pounding sound of hooves was loud enough on the grassy verge without being made louder on the hard road. There was no tree coverage in this part of the Hillsbrad Foothills, and this part of the road was patrolled by enemy Alliance soldiers. They would have cut across the grasslands, but the road took the fastest route and Kyala had thought the risk worth taking under the cover of night.

It had taken the better part of yesterday before the tauren shaman had allowed Alyna to see her. She had not been alone either, and Alyna had found herself surrounded by tauren warriors known as braves. With the unexpected crowd, she found she could not go through with Sylvanas’ order. She had muttered an apology and a vague reference to having had bad experiences with tauren in the past and had acted on instinct, and then left, not even waiting for a reply. She felt humiliated, and she was angry Sylvanas had put her in the situation in the first place.

When she had got back to the barracks, Kyala had been waiting. Talnia had left several hours previously on a mission to Arathi Highlands, and they were to follow as soon as Alyna got back. She was quietly grateful – anything was better than picking poisonous mushrooms. They had managed to requisition a pair of giant bats, the preferred flying mount of the Forsaken, and had flown south to Tarren Mill. They were now going the rest of the way on horseback.

Alyna felt a shudder momentarily go through her body. She had been struggling with the changes in her body in recent days. Ordinarily she would not have truly felt the wind buffeting her face, but her skin had become overly sensitive and she felt it keenly. It was almost like a lover’s caress, and it was driving her to distraction. She could also feel her weight pressing forward into her saddle, and it took every sliver of willpower she had left not to grind her pelvis forward into it until she found release.

_This is madness,_ she thought. Even when she had been alive she had not struggled so completely with her desires. If she had not been able to sate her need, she had ignored it and it had subsided. But what she was feeling now did not give her a moment of peace. She was finding it hard to focus on anything for long, and knew she would need to do something about it soon.

As they rode east she could see a growing shadow rise before her. Despite never having been to this area before, she knew it could only be one thing – Thoradin’s Wall. Even the distant elves of Quel’Thalas had heard of the great wall that separated Hillsbrad from Arathi. It was an immense structure that bore testament to the historical defensive might of humanity. It was now crumbling, and had gaping holes in its structure. The road they were riding alongside went right through a decaying gateway, but they would not be following it that far. As the wall came closer, Kyala veered off to the south. Expecting the change of direction, Alyna followed, staying close.

After a few minutes, they dropped to a walk as they began to come across the first trees of a dense woodland. In the past, the humans would not have allowed trees to grow before the wall so their enemies could not hide, but just as the wall had begun to be reclaimed by nature, so had the grasslands. How Kyala knew which way to go, Alyna didn’t know, but the dark ranger did not hesitate once as she led them on a winding path through the trees. Conversation had been sparse through their journey as Kyala had remained mostly silent. While Alyna knew it was because they were in contested territory, she was also mindful that it was entirely possible Kyala was still angry at her for what had happened with the tauren. They had not had a chance to talk about it.

Kyala pulled her skeletal horse to a stop abruptly. In her distraction, Alyna nearly collided with her, and she received a stern red glare in response. Kyala then looked ahead of them and released a low whistle. Three short whistles and a fourth longer one replied, and the two women moved their mounts onwards. A minute later, two undead humans came into view on their own horses, each holding the reins of two more. Talnia had already arrived with three other rangers, but they were nowhere to be seen. Alyna had been told the two Forsaken were members of Sylvanas’ royal dreadguard, though neither of them wore a uniform in case they were spotted.

Alyna looked around as Kyala spoke to the guards. She knew little of what she was doing out here. It had been unexpected, since as far as she was aware she had not been deemed fit for active duty with other rangers, yet here she was. All Kyala had said was her singular talents were required and as such her presence was unavoidable. It did not thrill her that she was only here because they had to take her. She wanted to be invited because of her skill, not as a necessary evil. She wondered if this was how things were going to be for her. She had not yet decided if she was going to remain with the Forsaken or not, but a big part of that decision was whether she would be accepted by the other rangers.

And hopefully transfer to another captain.

“Alyna!” Kyala hissed. The former blood princess blinked and saw Kyala standing next to her, having dismounted. She followed suit and passed her reins to one of the waiting Forsaken. She followed Kyala away from the horses into the trees, and she quickly realised they were right next to the stone wall she had seen from a distance. Instead of starting to look for the gap in the wall they were to use, Kyala turned to scowl at Alyna.

“If you’re not focused, you can stay with the horses,” she warned.

Alyna frowned back at Kyala. “You told me I’m here because of my ‘unique talents’ and now you’re threatening to leave me behind?”

Kyala shook her head in frustration. “If I have to, yes. The success of this mission is more important than how we do it. Talnia will just have to come up with another way to do this.” She squinted at Alyna. “Look at you! You’re shaking! What’s got into you?”

Alyna snarled and turned away from the other ranger. The mask she wore around her mouth felt suffocating despite not needing to breathe, and she tugged it down. Kyala was right, she could not stop the shudders passing through her body. She also had no idea how to explain to the woman responsible for her what was going on because she didn’t quite understand it herself.

“Alyna?” She barely heard Kyala as her mind reeled at the ache growing within her body. When she felt the strong hand on her arm trying to get her attention, she felt something inside her snap. She spun round and pinned the surprised ranger against the wall and did the last thing either of them had expected that night – she kissed Kyala.

After a brief moment of shock, her friend reacted by grabbing Alyna’s upper arms and pushing her away with such force that Alyna stumbled and collided with a tree. She leant against it, still shaking considerably as Kyala stared at her with wide red eyes.

“Wh …” the ranger tried to start. “What was _that_?”

Alyna tried to reply, but she found that thinking straight let alone speaking was a problem. “Y-you w-wanted to know w-what’s got i-into me. N-now you know.”

Kyala tugged the hood of her cloak down and pressed her fingers back through her loose dark hair. “But …you’ve never shown interest in me before. Where has this come fr—” Alyna watched as red eyes widened further in surprise. “Oh! Oh, _shit_! You’re going through … by the Dark Lady, you’ve picked a fine time for this to happen!”

Alyna grit her teeth. “Y-you say th-that like I have a ch-choice in this.”

The other woman blinked. “I … well I suppose you don’t.” She looked around and Alyna saw a glimmer of the woman she used to know in the almost lost expression on her face. The hardened undead ranger was uncertain. “Are you able to … take care of it?” Alyna grimaced. She had tried to masturbate a couple of times over the last week, but to her morbid amusement she’d found out that required a few moments of focus she did not have. Kyala appeared to remember her own difficulties when she had gone through her own ‘awakening’ years before. “But I suppose you’ve tried that and failed.” Alyna nodded, and Kyala sighed.

The practical ranger stepped forward and pulled Alyna off the tree into her arms. “If I hear you say that I’m doing _this_ for Lady Sylvanas and not because I want the best for you … you _will_ regret it, understand?”

Alyna could only nod before their lips met again. She knew it was a desperate, hungry kiss as they moved to the forest floor, but she didn’t care. All that mattered were Kyala’s hands as they moved deftly, if blindly, to remove enough of Alyna’s armour so she could access her body.

“What the _hell_ is going on here?” snapped a familiar voice. Alyna groaned deeply with her deep need and anguish at having recognised Talnia. Kyala reacted like she had been set on fire as she rolled Alyna onto her back and stood to face the angry captain.

“Captain … I … it’s not what it seems! She’s going throu—”

Talnia laughed, cutting off Kyala and causing her to blink in surprise at the unexpected reaction.

“I know _exactly_ what’s happening to our rebel Scourge. I’m her captain, after all, and it’s my duty to know what’s going on with my rangers, is it not?” After a moment’s pause, Kyala nodded mutely. Alyna watched them silently from the floor, not trusting her legs if she were to try to stand. “I came back to see if you’d arrived yet.” She paused before ordering, “The others are at the rendezvous. Go meet them.” She looked past Kyala to assess Alyna. “I’ll take care of this.”

Kyala shook her head, “I don’t think—”

Talnia stepped forward into Kyala’s personal space, but despite lowering her voice Alyna could still make out what she said.

“While your presence here is to represent our Lady’s interests, Kyala, this is none of her concern, or yours.”

Kyala hissed her reply, “I think you’ll find she’ll take great interest in you taking advantage of Alyna’s state.”

Talnia smiled slowly. “Even if it’s what Alyna wants?”

Alyna instinctually wanted to protest the words she was not meant to hear, but she found she couldn’t. She wanted to believe that Sylvanas was still personally interested in Alyna’s wellbeing beyond her use as a resource, but after she had ordered her to confess to the tauren she was not sure. She had sent her to be humiliated; why would this be any different? The Lich King had had her assaulted several times while a member of the Scourge, and she’d had no one to run to and had just had to accept the reality of the situation. If she could just prove to Sylvanas that she was a worthy resource by completing this mission she could be transferred away from the city and out of Talnia’s reach.

She felt Kyala’s surprised glance in her direction before her equally surprised whisper, “You? She wants … _you?_ ”

Talnia shrugged. “She has a need, and I look after my rangers, Kyala. We have few to turn to for such things, as I know you’re aware, as is Alyna. Now, go do as I’ve ordered. We’ll be right behind you.”

With a last glance back towards Alyna, Kyala left.

Talnia smiled down at Alyna, who found she could not make eye contact with the captain. Her body was aching with her need for release, and she knew her only real option now was to submit, as much as it sickened her. She had to get her focus back for the mission, so when she felt the other woman’s weight she did not object. When she felt lips press against hers she opened her mouth willingly to the possessive kiss, and gave in to her desire.

Her captain wasted no time in sliding her hand down over her abdomen and under the waistband of her breeches. Despite herself, as soon as she felt Talnia’s fingers she pressed herself into them, ignoring the amused chuckle she received through their kiss.

“I told you you’d be mine,” came the low taunt.

Alyna growled her annoyance back at the woman. “F-fuck me or f-fuck off. R-really n-not in the mood f-for your verbal c-crap.”

To Alyna’s amusement the open invitation momentarily stunned the captain, and she realised that Alyna’s willingness had removed some of Talnia’s own enjoyment from the situation. _Good,_ she thought, moments before she felt strong fingers press up into her swollen flesh. Her body immediately reacted and she arched her back as her orgasm pulsed through her body, this time not hiding her release from her tormentor. When it subsided, her hunger remained and she knew it would not be enough. Again startling her captain, she began to rock her hips against the woman’s probing fingers. Alyna felt a different kind of thrill pass through her body as she felt Talnia try to regain control of the situation. She knew the captain would eventually succeed, but until that point … she was going to make sure she had her own way, and her own release, as often as she was able.

* * *

 

By the time they joined the rest of the dark rangers, Alyna was feeling calmer and considerably more focused. If she closed her eyes she could still feel her basic biological urges still working overtime, but for now she could put them to the back of her mind. Talnia had crowed smugly for a short while after they had finished, but she was now the professional captain everyone generally expected her to be.

They were looking down on the human city of Stromgarde from a nearby rocky outcrop. Formerly known as Strom, it had been the ancient capital of the first human civilisation to rise from the scattered tribes, the empire of Arathor; the humans her former people had owed their blood-debt to. As the Scourge had devastated Lordaeron, Stromgarde had managed to resist. It had not prevented the nation from falling apart though, as its fearless leader, Thoras Trollbane, was mysteriously assassinated a few years ago. The kingdom came under siege from the Boulderfist ogres and the criminal remnants of the former kingdom of Alterac. The latter had reorganised and were now calling themselves the Syndicate, and had not forgiven Stromgarde for its role in the collapse of their kingdom. The capital city itself was a walled-in warzone and was split between what remained of the Stromgardian army, the Boulderfist ogres, and the Syndicate.

As Talnia unravelled a map, Alyna grumbled quietly, “I still haven’t a damn clue why I’m here.”

“Neither does anyone else, so don’t go thinking you’re special and pay attention,” Talnia shot back. Two of the other rangers snickered before being cowed by a glare from their captain. “We’re here to relieve Stromgarde of one of its visitors. She’s a person of interest to our Lady, and we are to take her alive and deliver her to a waiting escort.”

“Are we allowed to know who she is?” asked Kyala.

Talnia looked at her and nodded. “Now you are, yes. We’re here for Beve Perenolde.”

The dark rangers exchanged glances as Alyna raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t the Perenolde’s the ruling family of Alterac before they betrayed the Alliance during the Second War?”

“The very same family,” Talnia confirmed. “Lord Aiden Perenolde was their last ruler, and Beve is his oldest child and daughter. Lord Perenolde is dead, and we believe his son, Aliden, has taken over the Syndicate his father created after the fall of his kingdom. We also believe Beve is not happy that her brother has assumed command and is preparing to fight him for control. She is currently in Stromgarde visiting the local Syndicate leader, Lord Falconcrest.” Talnia rolled her eyes at her next comment, “Apparently, they’re lovers.”

“Why does the Dark Lady want to kidnap a high-ranking Syndicate member?” asked Alyna.

“That is none of our concern. We’re here to do her bidding.”

Alyna nearly rolled her own eyes at the answer she should have expected. “All right. Why am I here then?”

It was Kyala who answered, the realisation clear in her voice. “Beve Perenolde is an accomplished mage. A … frost mage … if I recall the rumours?” She looked at Talnia, who nodded. “We’ll need to get close to kidnap her, and frost mages are notoriously difficult for those of our skillset to get close to. Her frost-armour aura prevents us from shooting any kind of paralysing arrow at her, and her ability to freeze us to the spot and blink away means we cannot get close easily.”

“And I can counter her spells, and as a wielder of frost magic myself perhaps even anticipate her next move,” finished Alyna.

“Exactly,” confirmed Talnia.

“You could have brought any mage from the city. Why me?”

Kyala leant forward to speak quietly to Alyna, “The captain does not have to explain her orders, Alyna. Just dictate them.”

Talnia stepped forward so her words could only be heard by Alyna and Kyala. “No matter what you think of me, Alyna, we dark rangers prefer to work with each other and no others as often as we can keep it that way. Though you’re still training, your presence is far more preferable to any Forsaken soldier or mage.” She smirked. “Particularly as none of _them_ could climb the city walls while stealthed like we can.”

“So we’re taking her from inside the city?” Alyna asked curiously.

“We’re taking her from inside the main keep.”

Even Kyala raised an eyebrow at the audaciousness of the plan. “They’re heavily entrenched in the keep. The only way to move enough of their forces would be to create a distraction larger than the six of us combined could manage.”

Talnia smiled slowly. “Have faith, Kyala.” She brought them all to the map and began to go through how they would enter the city and make their way to the keep. They would climb the thick wall of the keep via a buttress and wait for the planned distraction on one of the upper walkways. Then they would strike.

Except they were now sitting against the inner wall of the walkway, and the distraction had not happened. They had four dead Syndicate guards at their feet, and they were all on edge. Someone would come to check on them soon, and there was a good chance the alarm would be sounded and their plan would go to waste.

Alyna felt movement at her shoulder and turned slightly to see Kyala settling beside her.

“You seem calmer,” she observed. Alyna nodded her confirmation. Then Kyala got to the point. “Tell me you consented to her … attentions.”

Alyna looked away, trying to make it seem like she was watching for fresh guards. “We both know I needed it, Kyala.”

“Needed to get fucked, yes. By _her_ though? You hate her, and have never hidden that from me. Or her for that matter.”

She did not want to have this conversation so she tried to throw Kyala off. “There’s no need to get jealous.”

“Jealous? What?” Kyala’s features turned into a frown. “I wanted to _help_ you, Alyna. Don’t get any ideas beyond that.” She had tried to keep the pain from her voice but she had not quite succeeded. Alyna felt bad for her friend, but it was not out of a sense of guilt as she was still incapable of such. She did not want her friend to hurt, and the fact she currently felt mistreated was a source of upset for Alyna. That she had caused it was neither here nor there to her. She watched Kyala move away back to her position, and Alyna tried to refocus her mind on the task at hand.

From below, a loud horn sounded and a determined roar rose from the city streets beyond the keep. Unable to help herself, Alyna rose slightly to peer over the wall, mindful of stealthing herself first. Her jaw dropped as she saw a wave of heavily armoured humans crash into another rank of less organised humans. The Stromgardian army had attacked the Syndicate in full force, and it was clearly a surprise to the latter. Syndicate members leapt from the shadows and all areas of the keep to join the fray in trying to keep the rightful inhabitants of the city from retaking their keep.

Kyala moved past her and hissed, “Come on!”

Alyna fell into step behind. “How the hell did Sylvanas manage to get the humans to attack?”

Kyala rolled her eyes. “She didn’t, but it looks like she knew they would. Now focus!” It was clear Kyala was still annoyed at Alyna, and she figured they would talk it out after the mission was over. They’d have to if Kyala was to keep spying for Sylvanas and remain close.

As a group, they entered the top of the keep and began to move down through the tower. They were stealthed, so any guard they came across was quickly dispatched with little fuss. The distraction outside meant the bodies would not be discovered until it was too late. The attack would also mean that their target would be moved to the largest room in the keep for her own safety, so there was no need to check the private rooms for her.

The main hall had a balcony looking down into it and a narrow viewing gallery along the sides. Talnia had split the dark rangers up so that she and Alyna were on the balcony, with two more rangers in the galleries. Kyala and the last ranger were to enter the hall proper and act as a secondary distraction.

There were two doors below the balcony that led into the hall, and each had a couple of guards just inside, and no doubt a pair outside too. They could hear the sounds of battle outside the keep, but the occupants of the hall were trying to be calm. Lord Falconcrest was noticeably absent, and a blonde human woman in her forties was the focal point for the orders flowing from the area. Alyna caught a glimpse of her dark brown eyes and noted the seriousness in them. She could also feel the magic rolling off the woman as her defences pulsed invisibly, her fingers wrapped tightly around the shaft of an ornate staff. She turned to Talnia and used their sign language to communicate as much, and Talnia nodded. They’d expected her to defend herself against all threats, and her own people were also a threat to her ambitions. Alyna checked the security of her black mask and loaded her bow.

As one, the dark rangers rained down their tainted arrows into the hall. Unprepared for an attack from above, the occupants fell easily. All except the frost mage now standing in the middle of a small maelstrom of frost magic, her shield now visible. Alyna placed a pair of shadow curses on the woman to try and drain her energy, but they barely seemed to affect her.

The mage’s attention was on the two rangers currently trying to get near her. Alyna could see her lips moving and instinctively tried to counter the spell. The woman blinked as her flow of energy was momentarily halted by Alyna’s counterspell, and she looked up to the balcony. Her dark brown eyes met Alyna’s black ones and she instantly hurled a shard of frost from her palm towards Alyna. Expecting the move, Alyna ducked out of the way and hurled her own shard back at the woman. It shattered on her shield, but Alyna knew it was weaker for the effort.

She heard a laugh. “How about you come down here and have a proper fight? We both know these _rogues_ cannot harm me.”

Alyna smiled. She thought they were just rogues, even quite possibly fellow Syndicate rogues trying to topple her power. She had not spotted their undead nature, and that would be her first mistake. Her second was thinking that Alyna would fight fairly. She stood up and murmured a familiar spell, and watched as a patch of ice formed under the woman’s feet. The mage yelped as she lost her balance and landed awkwardly on her back. She lost her grip on her staff, and Alyna threw a shard of frost at it, sending it clattering to the back of the hall.

The rangers in the galleries were trying to shoot arrows at the mage, but her shield still held. Kyala was now sprinting across the hall with something in her hand, and the mage began to cast another spell. Alyna countered it, but instead of a frown she received a smile in response.

“Shit!” she cursed as a bolt of frost slammed heavily into Kyala’s chest. The ranger flew back down the hall along the smooth wood floorboards, the item she’d been holding also sliding free. Alyna watched in horror as the frost magic spread across her friend’s chest as she struggled. She had been tricked into countering the wrong spell by the wily mage. If Kyala had needed to breathe, she would now be suffocating, and it was that fact alone that caused the mage to pause having expected Kyala to die instead of struggle vainly.

Alyna took advantage of her hesitation and vaulted over the banister of the balcony to land on the floor below, grateful for her undead durability. She landed near the object Kyala had been carrying, and she picked it up. She recognised it for what it was, the manacles Talnia had used to restrain her the previous week. She gripped them tightly as a loud roar started just outside one of the doors. She looked up at Talnia and saw the captain’s eyes widen from her vantage point and Alyna knew this had not been planned for. A large burly human charged through the doorway at her, and she snap-cast the only spell she could think of – she encased herself in ice. The male slammed into her ice block head first and bounced off it, falling to the floor unconscious. Arrows began to fly past her into the doorway as she dropped her protection. The female mage was focused on the other door, hurling her own magic at it to stop the Stromgardians from breaking through.

Alyna blinked towards the mage, covering the distance between them instantly and startling her. Before she could do anything more, Alyna put the manacles around her wrists to prevent her from casting her magic, and she then used them to pull her close.

“We are not here to kill you, but if you resist we’ll all die. Understood?” Her brown eyes assessed Alyna shrewdly before she nodded.

“What do you propose?” Her voice was soft, but the underlying steel was unmistakeable. She would resist as soon as she thought she could do so successfully.

“I’m going to start to make a portal, and you’re going to add your strength to fully open it.”

“And if I don’t want to go where your portal leads?”

“I’ll kill you,” Alyna replied bluntly. She had no intention of dying here today for this woman. If she was damned, she’d take the human with her.

“Fine, have it your way.” She smiled. “For now.”

Alyna turned and signalled Talnia with her plan. Not waiting for a reply, she began to draw on the energy around her and began casting the spell for a portal to Undercity. Before she had finished, she undid the manacles around the human’s wrists, and true to her word, she began to weave her own magic into Alyna’s spell. The blue-white oval portal snapped into being and Alyna immediately replaced the human’s restraints. She tried to pull away but Alyna’s grip was inhumanly tight.

“My, you’re a strong one,” the human taunted.

Their struggle had resulted in the mask around Alyna’s face dropping down to her neck and when she snarled her irritation at the human she saw the brown eyes widen in shock at Alyna’s fangs and pale skin.

“What … are you?” she gasped.

Shouts and clashing steel finally crashed into the hall itself as the dark rangers charged for the portal. Alyna was relieved to see one of them had stopped to collect Kyala, who was still struggling against the ice partially encasing her, but the angry humans were gaining ground. Still holding onto the woman’s arm with one hand, Alyna used her free one to once again cover the floor with a sheet of ice. As they struggled and fell, one large human rose to his knee and grabbed a spear from a companion. His armour was more ornate than the others, and Alyna guessed he was their commander.

Before he could throw his spear at the retreating rangers, Alyna summoned her will into a ball of shadowflame, and she sent it in his direction. While he was wearing chainmail, his padded undergarments were not immune, and he screamed as he burned. As the last ranger fell into the portal, Alyna stepped into it herself, making sure the human female was ahead of her.

The Mage Quarter in Undercity was a permanent luminescent green, and she found herself blinking at the sudden brightness of her surroundings. She felt a powerful tug and she turned to see the woman had fallen to her knees. She was shaking.

“Wh-where am I? Who … by the Light, you’re dark rangers!” Alyna was almost fascinated by how quickly the colour had drained from her face.

“She’s quick,” one of the rangers quipped, and the others chuckled.

Talnia was not amused. “The mage quarter? You couldn’t have picked somewhere more private?”

“You can’t pick just anywhere to open a portal to, _Captain_. Not unless you’re an archmage, which I am not. I opened one to the nearest fixed point to which I’m attuned.”

The captain sighed. “We need to get her out of here. Get a cape over her head and keep her hidden. If she protests, knock her out.” The woman seemed to want to protest the order but seemed to realise how that would end, so she shut up. After ordering the ranger holding Kyala to the infirmary, Talnia led the way towards the ranger barracks which were thankfully nearby. They attracted nervous glances, but most citizens knew better than to look at the rangers too closely, and they went about their business. Alyna quietly marvelled at the obedience of the Forsaken as a people. They knew this was none of their concern, and they kept to themselves instead of gawking.

The barracks had a pair of cells, and Alyna placed the woman into the first, leaving the manacles on. As she turned to leave, a soft half-hysterical chuckle rose behind her.

“You find your situation amusing?” she asked.

“Honestly? Yes.” Her chuckle deepened at Alyna’s continued confusion. “The man you set on fire … you have no idea who he was, do you?”

“I don’t care who he was, no.”

“You should.” Her eyes twinkled. “I’ve been trying to kill him for several years now, and you just … drop into my life from above and set him on fire. Congratulations … whatever you are. You just killed Prince Galen Trollbane, the last of the royal line of Stromgarde.” She leant against the iron bars of her prison. “You can’t even conceive of the chaos you just created with his death, can you?”

“Again, I don’t care. The politics of the living are of no concern to me.”

The human raised a blonde eyebrow at the blunt reply. “The living? So, you’re … right, of course you are. You’re different to the others, but not _so_ different it seems.” It rankled Alyna that in just a short time the human had noticed that Alyna was not quite like the other dark rangers. “So why am I here, and alive, if my _politics_ , as you so put it, are of no interest to you?”

“Because they’re of interest to someone else,” came a smooth, male voice. Alyna turned and did not manage to hide her surprise as Sylvanas’ last protégé strolled into view. He was just as dead as the rest of the Forsaken, but his features were still recognisable as the human male Sylvanas had controversially made a Ranger Lord of Quel’Thalas before he left to defend his lands against the plague of undeath. It would seem he had not been successful.

He acknowledged Alyna’s presence with a nod before he turned to address the woman. “I am Nathanos Blightcaller, Champion of the Banshee Queen.” He smiled toothily. “Welcome to Undercity.”


	11. Chapter 11

_Two hours later …_

Sylvanas raised her blazing red eyes to assess her captain carefully. She had summoned Talnia into her office as soon as she had heard of their unexpectedly quick return and had listened to the full report without interrupting. That had not meant she had nothing to say.

“When I ordered you to bring Beve Perenolde to me I had expected you to be discrete about it," she observed bluntly.

Talnia shifted in her seat opposite her queen. “Alyna directed her portal here; a fact I was not aware of until I had already stepped through.”

Sylvanas skimmed through the hastily written report in her hand as she asked, “Did you not discuss the location of the exit portal before you infiltrated the city?”

Talnia shook her head. “The portal was not planned, or expected, considering we only had one mage and I did not assume our kidnap target would cooperate so … fully.” She pulled a piece of parchment free from a tube attached to her belt and placed it on top of the pile on the queen’s desk. “I had planned to extract her and deliver her to a courier for a more discrete arrival.”

Sylvanas did not even glance at the new parchment. “What went wrong?”

Talnia growled her frustration. “Food poisoning, my Lady.” The unexpected answer caused Sylvanas to minutely raise both her eyebrows in mild surprise as Talnia continued, “Your source was correct in that the Stromgardians had planned a full attack that we could take advantage of. What no one knew in time was the Syndicate had served something tainted for dinner and they were not in any shape to fight. Instead of fighting to a stalemate as they always do, the Stromgardians actually managed to break through, and quickly. They had reached our position faster than we could remove our target.”

“So you’re telling me that Alyna saved your asses and completed the mission, with a minor complexity of having been seen by a few Forsaken.”

Talnia looked uncomfortable and Sylvanas enjoyed it. “Yes, my Lady.”

Sylvanas nodded slowly in reply. “Good. I’m keen to get her involved in other missions.” The captain hesitated briefly but enough for Sylvanas to notice. “Surely you think she’s ready?”

“I cannot deny she was useful in this mission, but when it comes to her ranger training I believe she is not quite ready in some areas.” Red eyes met Sylvanas’ evenly, Talnia being one of the few who dared to look at her directly. “She also still lacks discipline and respect. I am having to continually educate her in those areas.”

“Are you now.” They stared at each other before Sylvanas accepted the explanation. “I want her ready in a week.” Talnia moved to object but Sylvanas held her hand up. “One week, Captain. Just make sure she’s ready.”

A flash of a smile graced Talnia’s lips. “I will, my Lady.” She paused. “Will there be anything else?”

“No. You’re dismissed.”

Sylvanas began shuffling through the rest of the reports on her desk when something on one of them caught her eye. She picked it up and skimmed through it quickly as Talnia reached the door.

“Wait,” she commanded, and Talnia obediently turned back to look at her queen. She read the details on the report again and let her scowl show as she looked up at her captain. “Bring Alyna and Kyala to me. Now.”

Talnia’s surprise passed quickly through her fine features before she hesitantly replied, “Kyala is still being treated by the priests.”

While the news irritated Sylvanas, she did not let it show. She would catch up to her agent soon enough. “Fine. Just Alyna.”

The captain bowed her head in acknowledgement. “As you wish, Dark Lady.”

* * *

 

Alyna inspected the arrow carefully before adding it to her quiver and selecting another to scrutinise. She had not expected it to be below her required standard, but it was a routine she found comfort in. Sometimes, it also helped pass the time. Now she was no longer in charge of countless Scourge, she found she actually had some free time occasionally, and it was a strange notion. In life she would have spent it eating and sleeping, but now she was not entirely sure what to do with it.

“If you find any that are short of perfect, I do hope you’ll let me know so I can have the fletcher re-educated.” Alyna ignored Talnia as she entered the armoury, opting to finish her inspection of the arrow. This raised a low chuckle from the captain. “Still being obstinate I see. And here I thought you’d show some gratitude for helping you in the woods earlier.”

Alyna stowed the arrow angrily and turned on her captain. “You call what you do helping me?” She scoffed. “Kyala would have helped. You abused your position!”

Talnia smiled slowly. “I didn’t hear you objecting.” Alyna stepped forward to protest, but was stopped by Talnia’s smile turning serious. “We can talk about this later. Lady Sylvanas has summoned you and I’m to bring you to her immediately.”

Alyna was not sure what to make of the summons, but it distracted her enough for her anger at Talnia to subside, for now. For a moment she wondered if the queen had followed up with the tauren and realised Alyna had not fully confessed as ordered. She had no idea if Sylvanas would do that, but was not willing to put anything past the distrustful queen.

Knowing that delaying the summons was pointless, she just nodded and obediently followed Talnia to the royal quarter. When they arrived in the throne room, Sylvanas’ posture told her immediately that her queen was angry as she stood rigidly before her throne, her arms crossed as she watched the two rangers enter. Four royal dreadguards were also in the room, their queen’s demeanour raising their alertness.

Never one to delay the inevitable even when still alive, the queen got right to the point.

“You disobeyed a direct order, Alyna.”

The former blood princess did not visibly react as Talnia glanced at her warily. Wanting to see what Sylvanas knew about the tauren first, she asked, “How so, my Lady?”

Sylvanas eyes narrowed almost unperceptively. “My apothecaries are a curious lot, as well they should be, and like to test everything they find. Your habit of burning bodies after you have fed on them to hide your proclivity has had them falling over themselves to analyse the residue you leave behind. To their dismay, it has not proven very useful to their concoctions as of yet.” Alyna felt the cold spread of realisation move through her body as Sylvanas continued, “But, imagine my … _disappointment_ … when I read a report detailing your unique signature was found within a group of civilian humans thought to have died accidentally a week ago. Would you care to explain why you killed them against my orders?”

Alyna could feel two pairs of eyes burning into what was left of her soul and she glanced between them. She knew Talnia had put the timeline together and was now silently threatening Alyna with her gaze. She turned her eyes back to Sylvanas but found she was unable to look at her directly.

“I … lost control, my Lady,” she muttered quietly.

“You lost control,” Sylvanas repeated slowly, clearly not believing her. “So, you travelled alone a couple of hours out into Tirisfal, no doubt moving past a Scarlet encampment or two as they’re everywhere at the moment, and then you suddenly lost control around a human gathering to such an extent you could not double back to find a Scarlet one?” Her tone was bordering on sarcasm and Alyna knew how weak the explanation sounded. “If I don’t hear something plausible in the next minute you’ll have plenty of time to come up with something in a cell.”

Alyna felt something inside her shift and she realised she had just made up her mind about her future. She straightened her back and raised her black eyes to meet Sylvanas’, and she could see the queen had not been expecting her sudden courage.

“You want something _plausible_?” She paced slowly as she kept her eyes on Sylvanas. “You don’t give a shit about plausible because nothing I say can take away from the fact that I disobeyed an order, regardless of whether I was in control of my own actions or not.”

Talnia stepped forward angrily, “How dare you speak t—”

“Stand down, Talnia,” Sylvanas interrupted strongly before turning her attention back to Alyna. “It would appear Alyna has a few things to say. What kind of queen would I be if I did not listen to my people?” The captain nodded slightly before moving away somewhat, seemingly understanding something Alyna did not.

Nor did she care as she decided to let her anger show. “So what if my skills go to waste by collecting mushrooms, or your captain grinds me into the ground because she hates me, or tries to bend me to her will because you’ve given her the power to believe that she can? Do you even _know_ what happens in your own barracks, or even care?” Alyna grit her teeth as she practically shouted each word. “I came here because I was free to do so after suffering for years under a violent tyrant who didn’t care how things were done just so long as they were. What did it matter to him if we were sacrificed in the process, or tortured, or abused? All that mattered were results. What makes you _any_ different?”

Sylvanas blinked, momentarily stunned by the implication of Alyna’s words. “You’re comparing me to … _him?_ ”

Alyna caught a pair of the guards glancing at each other in shock as she felt her body shake with her fury. “You’re _blind_ to what you’ve become, aren’t you? All that matters to you is revenge, and if those you have driven to provide it for you suffer intolerably under your rule that’s acceptable to you because at least it gets you closer to your goal!”

The Banshee Queen’s features darkened as she replied angrily, “Arthas must pay for what he has done to us all!”

“At what cost? Because you’re currently damning us all along with yourself! I’ve existed too long under one tyrant to willingly serve under another now I have a choice. You walk this path alone, Sylvanas. I will _not_ follow you!”

No one spoke for several long moments before the queen’s voice chilled the room with her words, “You pledged yourself to me, Alyna. I am not about to release you from your word.”

Alyna felt a sense of dread spread through her body at the implication that she would be somehow forced to serve. “I pledged myself to my former General and lover; a woman I trusted with my life, and a woman I would have given my life for.” She shook her head in disgust. “You … are not that woman. You’re nothing but a wannabe Lich Queen, and you’re almost there.”

Sylvanas eyes flared furiously as she screamed, “Arrest her!”

The guards sprang into motion, but they were not as fast as Talnia who had already drawn a dagger and raised it to Alyna’s throat. Instinctively, Alyna knocked it away and the captain spun around and sliced the blade at Alyna’s thigh. The wound was superficial, but Alyna was familiar with what weapons Talnia carried and she knew it was poisoned. In moments she felt her leg grow heavy as the paralysing agent spread rapidly through her body.

As bony hands clawed at her wrists to prevent her from using her magic, she shot a glance at the queen who had not moved through all the action, her words tinged with deep regret at what could have been, “You have become the creature you’re hunting, Sylvanas Windrunner, and perhaps worse. He forced me to damn what’s left of my own soul, but you’ve gone and damned your own, Banshee Queen. When your end arrives, know that what you suffer after is of your own doing!”

“Get her out!” cried the enraged queen.

Insistent hands dragged the now mostly paralysed undead elf from the throne room. As she watched the paving stones move beneath her, Alyna decided she had done the right thing. She had decided back on Acherus that she would rather die free than exist as a slave, and she had made the same decision again. It was time to live with that decision, though she doubted that would be for too long.

* * *

 

_A few hours later …_

Sylvanas gazed impassively at the woman in the cage. Beve Perenolde was a striking woman, she idly observed. She was also shrewd, and fiercely intelligent; two traits that had helped gain her the attention of the Queen of the Forsaken.

“Let me get this straight,” started the human woman, “you want to help me gain control of the Syndicate?”

“Yes,” replied Sylvanas.

“And what do you get out of it?”

Sylvanas nodded at the nearby Nathanos who stepped forward with a sheet of parchment, handing it to the still manacled mage. He was nowhere near as decayed as the rest of the Forsaken, and Sylvanas had reasoned that the natural ranger magics she had taught him to wield in life had protected his body in a similar manner to how the innate magic the elves were infused with protected theirs.

“An ally, Lady Perenolde. It may not have escaped your attention to see that my lands are bordered by the Alliance on several sides. By helping you gain control of the Alterac Mountains and some of the Arathi Highlands, I gain an ally instead of an enemy as a neighbour.”

“And a buffer against the Alliance,” Beve replied succinctly.

Sylvanas inclined her head in acknowledgement of the fact. “You would be in between us in places, yes. I would also be prepared to help you defend against any attack they may attempt on your new lands.”

The mage held the still unread parchment as she looked curiously at the queen. “I’m the enemy of your enemy, and you want us to be friends.”

Sylvanas hesitated at the implication of friendship. “Something like that. I don’t pretend to believe we could become friends.”

“Because you’re all dead and we’re not?”

Sylvanas knew her eyes flashed angrily at the bluntness the human displayed, but she managed to hold her temper in check for the sake of future negotiations. “I have found the living races to be less than forthcoming with overtures of friendship to us because of our unliving state, yes.”

The mage leant casually against the bars in her cell. “I think you’ll find most of us in the Syndicate like to defy convention, Lady Sylvanas. I admit to being interested in your proposal, though I will need time to read your conditions and think about it.”

“Of course. Take all the time you need. In the meantime, if you require any comforts please let your guard know and it shall be brought to you.”

The human held up her wrists. “I do feel more like a prisoner than a guest at the moment.”

Sylvanas raised her eyebrow. “I can have the manacles removed, but the cage is for your own protection. I cannot have a human walking around Undercity, no matter her allegiance. My people won’t ask questions first before they kill you.”

The woman appeared to consider the words before she nodded her agreement. “All right. I’ll remain in the cage. I’d appreciate being able to use my hands though.”

As Sylvanas signalled for Nathanos to remove the manacles, Kyala entered the room and immediately moved towards the queen, throwing a look of anger towards the human mage that Sylvanas fully understood.

“Your Majesty, you asked to see me as soon as I was released?” Sylvanas nodded and guided the fidgety ranger into a nearby office, closing the door behind them. She looked Kyala up and down to ascertain her health and was pleased to find no residual injuries from her ordeal.

“I assume you have heard about what I’ve had to do to Alyna,” the queen opened.

Kyala’s shoulders slumped as she nodded. “Talnia told me you’ve had her taken to the dungeon.”

“You were meant to be my eyes and ears, Kyala.” The ranger looked away from Sylvanas, immediately raising her suspicions. “You knew something.”

“I … knew something, yes, my Lady.” She sighed. “I didn’t tell you because I thought it was an isolated incident and she deserved another chance after the work she’d put into her training.”

Sylvanas stepped closer to Kyala and she knew the ranger was trying hard not to flinch away from her queen. “You are to tell me _everything!_ It is not for you to decide what she deserves!” She growled her irritation and managed to calm herself down enough to ask, “Why did she lose control?”

“I don’t know … she didn’t tell you?” Kyala asked in surprise.

“She was too busy accusing me of being a Lich Queen,” Sylvanas retorted.

“She … w-what?” stammered the stunned ranger. Sylvanas realised Talnia’s version of events had not been entirely forthcoming. Kyala looked around the room as she thought about what to say. “She’s in the dungeon now?”

“The lower cells, yes.”

Kyala’s jaw dropped. “My Lady, does she really deserve something so extreme?”

Sylvanas snarled. The lower cells had specially designed crystals embedded into the walls that caused the occupants to hallucinate. They particularly targeted the fears of their victims, and they also had a habit of forcing them to relive traumatic events. It had been a useful tool. She just had to torture someone once and then let the crystals force them to relive it until their will was broken without risking further physical harm.

“She’s in the lower cells until she learns to obey orders. Should I be putting you next to her for your own failure to report?”

Kyala pulled her hood back and brushed her fingers through her dark hair. “Maybe you should, because I think I agree with her.”

Sylvanas recoiled as if she’d been hit. “What?”

The ranger was clearly nervous. “You of all people know what she was put through before she was killed, and though she doesn’t talk about it, we can all imagine what he has done to her over the last few years. _And you’re forcing her to relive it all?_ ” Kyala’s disgust was evident on her face. “You’re torturing the woman you love!”

“I haven’t loved her in years!”

“You weren’t alone when we broke free from Arthas, my Lady! I saw your grief at her loss when we couldn’t get to Northrend, and I saw you try to eradicate how you felt about her just to survive. But she’s not lost anymore … she’s _here!_ And you’re destroying what’s left of her! And I can’t help but wonder if that’s because there’s nothing left of you …”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Sylvanas snapped.

Fully committed to her path, Kyala looked at her desperately. “You cared about us when you created the Forsaken. Yes, you wanted revenge against Arthas, but you also protected us and nurtured us into becoming what we are. We all looked to the future, and many of us planned for the day Arthas would be brought to justice, and we could look past it to what we’d do after. And we had _you_ to thank for giving us that hope – that despite our wretched existences we had a chance to make something of it. But many of us now believe we’ll never realise our plans because you’ll have us die for something trivial before it happens. You’ve stopped caring about our wellbeing. We’re nothing to you but tools, and tools can be repaired and replaced. We’re now expendable. In your drive to stop loving Alyna, you stopped caring about _everything_ in the process. How can you stand there and say you’re not as bad as Arthas when you’re torturing the one person who can change everything for you, and for us?”

Sylvanas knew she was gaping at Kyala, but she could not help herself. It had been a very long time since anyone had stood up to the Banshee Queen so passionately and boldly, and Kyala was now the second to do it within hours. She had always relied on the woman’s blunt and honest appraisal of every situation, and for hundreds of years she had never been wrong. What were the chances that she was wrong now?

“Please, my Lady,” Kyala begged, “let Alyna go.”

Sylvanas hesitated and found herself unable to look at Kyala. “I … can’t. I can’t let her go, Kyala. She wants to leave and I can’t let that happen.”

The moment Alyna had said she wanted to leave Sylvanas had panicked. She had spent the past few weeks avoiding Alyna because she hadn’t wanted to deal with the emotions the woman had threatened to release, and in that moment she had known what a waste it had all been. For years she had wanted Alyna to be back with her, and the concept of letting her go threatened to tear her apart in ways she hadn’t realised were possible.

Kyala looked at her with what only could be described as pity. “You two really need to talk it out honestly, as equals, my Lady.”

“How can she be my equal? I have to rule our people!” wailed Sylvanas.

The ranger approached tentatively and put a hand on the upset queen’s arm. “You managed it for over a hundred years, my Lady. You were always professional in public and we had no doubt as to who was the senior officer. How you two conducted yourselves in private was none of our concern. Talk to her alone, and stop being her queen in private, and perhaps you two can work out your differences and she will want to stay.” She shook her head sadly. “If you force her to stay by breaking her will, there will be no going back for either of you, and I fear what it will mean for our people if you finish walking down that path.”

“Arthas doesn’t care, Kyala, and he uses that to his advantage. If we are to beat him, I _have_ to be as ruthless as he is!”

“I agree to a point, my Lady. But we have spent a lot of effort trying to convince the living races not to exterminate us because we are different to the Scourge. If we become as bad as they are, when the time comes and Arthas is dead, they will turn on us before his body hits the floor. We have to show them we are truly different, and we do that by showing the living that we are more like them than we are like _him_. We can do that by giving a damn about each other and planning for a future instead of rushing headlong into mutual annihilation with Arthas.”

Sylvanas turned to stare thoughtfully at the shaking ranger. She realised Kyala was scared at how Sylvanas would respond to her words, and it finally dawned on her that if someone as close and valuable to her as Kyala could be frightened for their life, then her people must be terrified of her. The idea would not normally have bothered her, but when coupled with the realisation that Arthas also engendered the same kind of fear within the Scourge, it made her feel sick.

_Alyna._

_What had she done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - I don't just write fanfiction, I also like to read it occasionally. Like quite a few of you, I have enjoyed reading Lunarelle's work. She has a scene in there where she uses magic within a cell to torture her protganoist, and quite frankly it was better than any idea I had for Alyna. While I've adapted it for my own use, I did ask Luna's permission to use the concept and she graciously said yes. So my thanks goes to her, and if you haven't read her work already, go check it out.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - Merry Christmas! I cannot say how often I will be updating, but I -will- be updating. And. Uh. Sorry for the wee delay. Time to break that unintentional cliffhanger.**

* * *

 

The scream hit Sylvanas like a sledgehammer as she crossed the threshold into the lower dungeon. It was an agonisingly familiar sound, not because it was normal for those who suffered here, but because of who it belonged to. Instead of passing through her, the sound lodged in her mind, reverberating back and forth like it had six years ago.

Buried memories surfaced, the echoing screams thrashing them around her mind. Alyna being tortured. Her blood on the walls. Her body broken on their bed. Her eyes empty.

Sylvanas felt herself stumble. The eyes. Her beautiful, deep blue eyes that had once shone with the wonder of her soul. Eyes that had crinkled in laughter. Eyes that had been full of love. Eyes staring through the translucent being Sylvanas had become.

Dull.

Broken.

_NO!_

Strong hands were on her shoulders and she shrugged them away. She swayed, the stone wall eventually providing the support she had just rejected.

“My Lady...” started Kyala, only to be ignored by the staggering queen.

Sylvanas moved forward. The dark walls threatened to close in on her. The light in the faint lanterns danced and taunted her, threatening to flicker out and leave her in darkness. She felt as though she was floating. She wasn’t real. She glided through the ruined corridors of her family home. She couldn’t escape the screaming. He would always bring her back to watch. She blinked, pulling herself back to the present. The screams were still there. Why were they still there?

_Alyna!_

This time, she could stop it. She was not his to command. She was queen. She would be obeyed.

_You are the cause of her screams._

Sylvanas reached for the bars of the cell door, both hands clasping around the cold metal. A form was writhing in the far corner, dimly lit by the cobalt crystal embedded in the ceiling. The screams had not stopped, but now she was nearer, she realised the screams were long, drawn out words. Unbidden, images formed in her mind as she recognised what Alyna was reliving.

She shook the door violently, but the door would not obey.

“Get her out!” she screeched.

Kyala immediately stepped forward with a set of heavy keys in her hand. She started trying each key, her movements unsteady. The lock clicked and Sylvanas pulled on the stiff door.

“No, my Lady! Don’t!” Kyala moved to grab Sylvanas, but the banshee queen was too fast.

As she stepped over the threshold, she gasped, and fell to her knees, clutching her chest. For the briefest of moments, she could have sworn her soul was being torn from her all over again. And then it passed with the sound of shattering glass.

Alyna was still screaming.

No longer caring about anything else, Sylvanas half-scrambled, half-crawled to the stricken woman. She lifted Alyna from the floor and tried to cradle her, but the manacles around her wrists made it difficult. She tried to release them, but she could not do so with one hand, the other wrapped around her former love. Then two hands appeared and removed them for her, and she pulled Alyna into her body.

She did not know how long they sat on the floor together, but she rocked the woman gently the whole time. It was automatic, an ingrained movement from a long-ago life. As was her hand stroking Alyna’s hair. She drew no comfort from it, but she found she could not stop. Alyna kept screaming words and names, and it took all of Sylvanas’ resolve to not give in to her own despair. She had been avoiding Alyna because she had not wanted to be reminded of all they had suffered. She had never truly dealt with her own trauma, instead just burying it and focusing on her rage and vengeance.

This was far worse than the conversation she had been avoiding.

_This is what you deserve._

If what Alyna and Kyala had told her that day was true, perhaps she did. But she also knew she was willing to suffer anything to have her revenge on the creature who had made all this a reality. Looking down at Alyna’s shuddering body, she knew that while she had done this, she ultimately blamed Arthas. Rage rose in her chest, and she welcomed it. She allowed it to make her stronger, to wrap her in its embrace even as she wrapped Alyna in hers.

She could not let Alyna go. She knew this. She hoped Alyna was strong enough to recover from this ordeal. She also hoped she would be allowed to explain. Could she convince Alyna to stay? She hoped so. She had to make her see they were better together.

_Better together?_ You _are better with her. You always have been. You need her more than she needs you._

_But what did Alyna need from her?_

Alyna’s screams had subsided, but she was still shaking. Still suffering. Sylvanas closed her eyes at the torment she had created, only for them to fly open as Alyna murmured a very unexpected name. She frowned at the woman, wondering if she’d misheard. Until she said it again.

This time, there was no doubting her ears. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Kyala. The ranger had faithfully been guarding the door, making sure her queen was not disturbed. Her keen elven ears had also picked up the name. If blood could drain from an undead elf’s face, it had done so for Kyala. Immediately, Sylvanas knew something had been withheld from her.

Sylvanas’ voice was cold. “Talnia?”

Kyala was stricken. “I … she … I asked her about Talnia. She refused to accuse her of anything. This happened on the last mission and there hasn’t been a chance to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Sylvanas’ glare was withering, and the fear she had seen in Kyala earlier had resurfaced. At this moment, she didn’t care. She had to know.

“Alyna … was … is … going through the ... Awakening … my Lady. I … believe … Talnia is taking advantage of her … condition.” Kyala paused, before she added quietly, “Without consent.”

The words sunk slowly into Sylvanas’ mind. Vague memories of gossip surfaced regarding Talnia and her company. She had dismissed them as ridiculous.

_You dismissed them because you did not care._

She closed her eyes again. If they were true, and she had given Alyna over to Talnia for training, how far would Talnia have taken out her jealousy on Alyna? She had never asked that question. Now she was being told the consequence of not giving more than a cursory care.

She cared now. Alyna was hers. Her rangers … were hers. She had let them down.

She opened her eyes to look down at Alyna. They glowed angrily.

She was going to fix it.

Alyna was finally still. With a little relief, Sylvanas realised she was unconscious. She hoped her mind was more forgiving in such a state as she slowly rose to her feet, not letting go of Alyna.

Kyala stepped forward, and appeared to be about to offer to carry Alyna, but one look from Sylvanas had the ranger step out of her way entirely. She carried her charge through the dark corridors, and up through the various levels of Undercity. She strode through the royal quarter, and into her office, ignoring the curious looks. Kyala had followed, not having been dismissed. When Sylvanas moved through her office and entered a hidden corridor, Kyala remained in the office. No one came down this corridor unless invited, and Sylvanas did not invite anyone.

She emerged in her own private quarters. It was a cold room hollowed out from the bedrock. She primarily wanted it for the large weapons rack that took up most of one wall. She also had a small wardrobe for her rarely used civilian clothing, various armour stands to hold her armour sets, and a writing desk. Since she spent such little time here there were few personal touches. She moved to the dominant piece of furniture in the room, the bed. She had considered it useless when it was installed, but the room somehow felt less without it. She lay Alyna down on it and stood back, watching her.

How many times had she watched Alyna sleep? She had always enjoyed it. As she watched her now, she took no pleasure in the act. Alyna’s body was utterly still. She did not breathe anymore, and she found it unsettling.

Something caught her attention, and she leaned in. She took Alyna’s hand, her eyes widening in rare surprise. Alyna had been divested of her armour, and only wore leggings and a tunic. Her hands were bare, and Sylvanas could now clearly see the wedding ring she had given to Alyna on her left hand.

_She still had it? Why?_

_Why do you still have yours?_

Sylvanas dropped the hand like she had been stung and stood back from the bed.

_I sent her away. She should have been safe. I should have stopped him at Fairbreeze Village. She would still be alive._

_I failed her._

She looked away. It had been years since such thoughts had come to her. She knew there was nothing more she could have done that day. He had taunted her before killing her, saying she was the reason they would all suffer for not letting him just pass through to the Sunwell. She had taken those words to heart for a long time, but she eventually realised they were just another sinister part of his mind games. If she had not resisted, others would have. Their fate would have remained the same. And she would always have resisted. It was her nature, it was her duty.

_She is still not safe. You are still failing her._

Sylvanas frowned. What was happening to her? Her conscience had been blissfully quiet for years. Alyna’s reappearance had stirred things up, not just in herself but in her people. Kyala had always been open with her, but never so brazen and blunt. Was that Alyna’s influence too? Did she really have as much control over her rangers as she thought she did, or was that an illusion? It would appear a version of Sunsail Anchorage was happening all over again in that Talnia had created her own personal fiefdom under Sylvanas’ nose, and this time she had not noticed. Had she really been that engrossed in her revenge?

This time, she was going to do something about it.

She moved over to her weapon rack and purposefully selected certain pieces. She then stripped an armour stand of its particular parts and carefully placed the set on her body before checking herself in the wardrobe’s mirror. When she was satisfied, she strode back down the corridor with purpose. Kyala was predictably still in her office, and the woman could not hide her surprise at her queen’s appearance.

Sylvanas did not pause in her stride as she crossed her office.

“Come with me,” she heard herself say. Her voice was cold, and angry.

Kyala immediately fell into step behind her as they passed through into the throne room, and then out into Undercity.

* * *

 

The barracks could almost have been described as alive with the amount of activity taking place within. One of the units could be seen removing their muddy gear and tending to their care. Another was clearly preparing for their own mission. As Sylvanas entered, all of this ceased to matter. Feet swiftly moved to face their queen as salutes were stiffly performed. The cacophony of sound ceased, but for one voice.

Talnia stood at a planning table, flanked by two of her lieutenants. She had not noticed her queen’s entrance as her back was to the door, but she did notice the sudden silence. She paused, mid-sentence, and turned. When she saw Sylvanas, her eyes noticeably widened.

The Banshee Queen cut a fearsome figure when in her every day attire, but now she wore her full battle regalia. The stiff dark red leather was heavily embossed with silver skulls, following the contours of her powerful figure. Her quiver was strapped to her back, and she held her infamous bow in a tight grip. She looked formidable. She looked prepared for war.

“Lady Sylvanas?” Talnia started, clearly unsure what to make of her queen’s entrance. “Will you be joining us?”

With no warning, Sylvanas rapidly loaded her bow and fired an arrow through Talnia's thigh. The woman grabbed onto the lieutenant next to her for balance as she stared down at the arrow in shock. Sylvanas calmly gestured with her bow and the lieutenant stepped back, leaving Talnia to force herself to stand upright.

Sylvanas was not known for reigning in her anger, and she did not hold back the rage in her tone, though she somehow managed not to shout. “Did you think I would not find out?”

Worry briefly crossed the normally sure features. “Find out what, my Lady?”

Sylvanas plucked another arrow out of her quiver. She held the projectile up for Talnia to see as black wisps of shadow began to swirl around the arrowhead. She waited just long enough to see Talnia’s eyes widen in fear. The captain immediately started to move, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

The furious queen was faster.

The arrow impaled Talnia’s other thigh, punching through and out of the other side. Somehow, the captain remained standing, though her body shook lightly as the poison began to spread through her body.

Slowly, methodically, Sylvanas moved closer. Her stride was long and graceful, and she had the distinct air of a predator circling her prey. She spoke as she closed the distance between them, her words deceptively light and almost disinterested.

“People scream the most interesting things when they are suffering intolerably. But then, that is something you would know all about, isn’t it?” Talnia flinched, though whether from her words or the poison, Sylvanas didn’t know. Or care. She continued, acutely aware of the rangers moving away from their captain.

“That amount of pain makes even the most accomplished of liars into honest confessors.” Sylvanas pressed the bladed-tip of her bow against Talnia’s cheek and guided the woman’s head around so she could look into her eyes. She knew Talnia was proud of being one of the few who dared to hold the gaze of their queen. “Imagine my surprise, when your name came up.”

Talnia was now shaking. “M-my n-name, m-my Lady?”

Sylvanas' eyes flashed. “Alyna.”

The captain blinked, before slowly, inexplicably, smiling. Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed as Talnia released a low chuckle. Near the doorway, Sylvanas sensed more than saw Kyala ready her bow at the unexpected reaction.

“You find your situation amusing, _Captain_?” hissed the barely contained queen.

“N-not mine. Y-yours. You ch-charge in here almost like you c-care. About _her_. About _us_.” She gasped tightly as a wave of pain passed through her. She grit her teeth through it, her final words spat forcefully. “You d-don’t give a f-fuck. We are n-nothing to you. They follow you out of f-fear. They _ch-choose_ me.”

The bladed edge of the bow struck her face violently, and Talnia collapsed onto the floor with the force of it. Sylvanas stood over her, her features a mask of fury.

“You abuse your rangers. You raped Alyna! She did _not_ choose you!”

Rolling onto her back, Talnia held the side of her face, Sylvanas having split the skin and cracked the bone. “She _begged_ me to fuck her!”

Any semblance of composure Sylvanas had left, vanished. She roared as she leant down to grasp Talnia by the throat. With her undead strength, she single-handedly lifted the woman and slammed her down onto the planning table with enough force to crack the solid wood.

It took a lot of effort to truly hurt an undead creature. Or … just the right knowledge. Sylvanas drew a poisoned dagger, and made use of her years of experience. To her deep amusement, Talnia did try to fight her off, but was quickly overwhelmed by what Sylvanas did to her.

Eventually, the woman’s screams began to pierce the rage that Sylvanas had given in to, and she stood back from the table. Dark ichor splattered her armour, a small amount having splashed up onto her face. Calmly, she pulled her cloak around and cleaned her dagger on it, before sheathing the weapon. As she did so, she could see some of her rangers. A couple were white-faced and jittery. Sylvanas made a mental note of those who were as it would appear they had something to worry about. Most though, wore various expressions of approval, and even relief. A brief wave of guilt passed through the queen as she realised most of the company appeared to have suffered somehow at Talnia’s hands. She looked back at the mauled captain, her own face now unreadable.

“Take her to the lower cells.”

Her order appeared to kickstart her rangers, and a pair immediately stepped forward to drag Talnia away.

After several long moments, the bolder of the two lieutenants stepped forward. “Your orders, Dark Lady?”

Sylvanas turned her head slowly to fix her red gaze onto the speaker. She then moved her eyes past her to look around at those present, before looking back at the lieutenant. “As you were … sisters.”

She would protect them. She _must_ protect them, she realised.

The banshee queen turned on her heel and strode out of the barracks. Kyala looked at the bewildered faces of her sisters, before going after her queen.

* * *

 

As she left the barracks, Sylvanas became immediately aware of the lack of bodies in the war quarter. The events in the ranger barracks had clearly been heard, and no one had wanted to be there when it finished.  That suited Sylvanas just fine. She turned and moved swiftly down the canal towards the royal quarter. Her ears flicked at a faint noise behind her, one she quickly identified as Kyala. She sighed inwardly. Though she wanted to be alone, she realised the ranger would be useful, and so she led the way back to her office.

Once they arrived, she moved towards her desk, issuing her order as she cast her gaze across the paperwork waiting for her that was pinned down by various paperweights.

“I want you to be with Alyna when she wakes. She should not be alone.”

The reply did not come immediately, and when it did her ears barely picked it up it was spoken so quietly.

“No.”

Sylvanas froze. Slowly, she turned to regard Kyala. The ranger was shaking, not unlike Talnia had not long ago. This time, she knew it for what it was … fear. Despite this, her agent did not look away when their red eyes met. She moved to slowly close the gap between them.

“No?” Kyala opened her mouth to reply, but found herself transfixed by the deliberate approach of her queen. A hand that had very shortly ago been torturing another ranger reached to grab her around the throat. Sylvanas’ words were quiet, and threatening. “I thought you would be very keenly aware of what I do to those who betray me, Kyala.”

“I w-would never betray you … my Queen.” Kyala’s voice shook, but there was a tenderness behind it that made Sylvanas pause, and listen. “I c-could stay, but s-she doesn’t need me. Sh-she needs _you_.” Despite her increasing terror, Kyala’s eyes bored into her former general. “And y-you need her.”

Sylvanas tightened her grip on her agent’s throat as her anger pulsed through her. Though not needing to breathe, it was not comfortable for Kyala and her mouth opened in a silent groan. After holding her a few moments longer, Sylvanas released her grip and stepped away, moving back to her desk.

“I do not _need_ anyone,” she spat.

The reply was slightly hoarse, and nervous. “You need the Forsaken to get to Arthas. You need us, your sisters, to do the things you trust no one else to do. And you need Alyna … to keep you from the abyss we both know you are about to fall into.”

Sylvanas closed her eyes and leant on her desk, her back to Kyala as she spoke. “When the _fuck_ did you get the idea you can talk to _me_ like this?”

Kyala’s next words sounded closer, emboldened by her queen’s relative lack of an extreme reaction. “Being made into banshees broke all of us, but what he did to you … is unspeakable. None of us expect a second chance, but perhaps this is yours. You’re not _him_ , my Lady. Not _yet_.”

Being compared to the Lich King again, to Arthas, made Sylvanas snarl.

“Get out.”

She did not hear the sound of Kyala leaving, so she swung around, slightly surprised to find the woman practically in her face.

“Get out!”

Kyala stumbled backwards, fear visible in her eyes again. She started towards the door, before she stopped to look back at Sylvanas.

“Go to her, my Lady. Before it’s too late.”

Sylvanas turned and grabbed one of the paperweights. Using her momentum, she swung the stone as hard as she could at the rapidly retreating Kyala as she screamed, “GET OUUTT!”

The lump shattered against the door as it closed behind the ranger.

Sylvanas screamed.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N - Yes, another. I've had some spare time. I just wanted to mention that ... I have thought a lot over the past year about how this chapter ends, and I decided to go with how it does. Chapter 14 will go some way to explaining why. Yes, I'm trying to head off any knee jerk reaction. The downside to releasing things in chapters is you don't always get to explain every event as it happens to have it make sense to the reader. Some of you will get it, some of you won't. That's life. I can't please everyone. That said, I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 

Awareness came suddenly to Alyna, and it was only decades of instinct that kept her body still. She knew immediately she was not in the cell anymore, but could not quite figure out where she was. Even more puzzling was the sound of moving paper.

She opened her eyes to a bitter-sweet sight. Sylvanas was sitting at a writing desk, doing paperwork. For a brief moment, she thought she saw bright golden hair draped loosely over tanned skin as her general worked in the early morning light. Many mornings she had woken to such a sight, particularly in their early years together.

If her heart had ached then, it now wept at her current view.

Reality was quick to replace her wishful thinking with the stark truth. Sylvanas was at the desk, but her hair was the pale straw-yellow it had become in death. Her skin was light grey, and the red glow of her eyes was impossible to miss. Several candles flickered on her desk, casting the queen’s features in harsh shadow and severe light. The rest of the room was dark, but Alyna realised she was on a bed.

And Sylvanas had not noticed she was awake.

She could end this all now, Alyna realised. She could take the queen’s soul, and free herself from whatever new hell Sylvanas was waiting to implement. Her people would object, but she could just take their souls as well. It would be so very easy, and they would fuel her power greatly.

She would be free. But where would that leave her? Could she live with the consequences?

_Can I kill Sylvanas?_

A lot had happened since she had last asked the question. She couldn’t love the woman, but she knew they were still connected on a level she could not readily comprehend. Even lying here, after being tortured by her, she felt a comfortable familiarity in the other woman’s presence that only Sylvanas had ever been able to provoke in her.

She felt home.

She was also starving. Her body hurt in the way it did when she was severely depleted. It hurt in a way she had almost savoured when she denied herself on purpose. It brought back memories of being under the Lich King’s control, and she realised she wanted to feed as a result.

Red eyes rose to look at her, and they stared at each other for a long moment. Slowly, Sylvanas put her quill down. With a slight nod to the side of the bed, she said without emotion, “You must be hungry.”

With a quick glance, Alyna couldn’t see anything. Tentatively, she rolled onto her front and peered over the edge of the bed, hyper-aware of Sylvanas watching her closely. A slim human male lay on the floor. He was filthy, and had clearly been starved and beaten. She knew he was still alive as she could hear the faint, slow beat of his heart. It was like music to her ears, and she slid off the bed to join him on the floor. She cradled him as she sank her fangs into his neck, immediately placing her hand on his chest to keep him alive for as long as possible.

She enjoyed her meal. There was something so primal about fear that it infused its essence into the blood of the living for a while. She could taste this fear. When she had originally discovered the fact years before, it had disgusted her. Now it was just another cruel piece of her reality. If they suffered before they died, they would taste better.

She felt the familiar urge to take his soul, and it was overwhelming. The spell she weaved to keep his heart beating began to deepen and sink into the essence that comprised of his very being. In her mind’s eye, she could see his soul and, she knew, he could feel her. He tried to pull away, but he had nowhere to hide while he was still tethered to his body. He was trapped.

_No!_

She pulled her hand off his chest and her mouth away from his throat, gasping. She dropped his corpse as she rapidly climbed back onto the bed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and held onto them tightly, aghast at herself for what she had almost done.

Sylvanas had watched all of it, and was silently regarding her as she calmed herself. She belatedly realised that would have been the first time the queen would have seen her feed, and she felt a rush of shame run through her. She still hated the process, even if she did get some pleasure from it. Did Sylvanas think her an animal? She certainly felt like one at times.

Alyna felt the need to break the silence. “That was … thoughtful. Thank you.” Sylvanas wordlessly replied with a nod. Alyna hesitated slightly before asking, “Why am I here?”

Sylvanas didn’t quite look away, but her eyes shifted focus away from Alyna’s eyes just enough to avoid eye contact. Alyna was quite sure it was an expression of guilt, but it might have been a trick of the candlelight.

“Why _are_ you here, Alyna? You could have gone anywhere once you no longer had to serve him, yet you came here.”

It was not what the former princess had been expecting. It was her turn to look away, though she did so more obviously. She had also begun to experience a slight tremor through her body. She knew what it was, and cursed the timing of it.

“We both want the same thing. Revenge. You were my best hope at that.”

She heard the note of disgust from Sylvanas. “You’re not telling me everything. Again. How am I to trust you if you constantly hide things from me?”

Alyna scoffed as she turned to look at the queen in anger. “Trust? You want to talk to me about trust?” She heard herself laugh in disbelief. “Trust is earned, and it goes both ways. You saw a very expendable resource in me, and nothing more. You expect some fanatical devotion but have done nothing to deserve it. If anything, all I have seen are reasons to _not_ trust you.” She felt her features change into a sneer, unable to stop herself. “Your Forsaken talk of having ‘free will’ but it’s all just a clever ruse. As soon as I wanted to leave, you made it very clear my free will didn’t matter. The only one with free will here … is _you_.”

Sylvanas looked down at her desk. Even Alyna could see she was feeling uncomfortable. She was picking at the wood with a gloved-finger in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture.

“It has recently been brought to my attention that I have been … blinkered … for too long.” Alyna raised a bone-white eyebrow in surprise, but remained silent as Sylvanas continued, with a sigh. “When we became free, we were all lost. I found if I tried to give the free undead purpose, I could … ignore … my own pain. And I very much wanted to not deal with the pain of losing you.” The wood-picking became more intense as she angrily spat, “He had no qualms about using anything he could against us. He used our dead, for Sunwell’s sake! As I began to prepare to confront him one day, I realised if I had _any_ weakness … he would find it, and use it.”

“So, to beat him, you thought to become him?”

Sylvanas looked at her now, a little shock visible in her eyes. “No. I … am not really sure where I am going to end up personally in all this. It never crossed my mind. I have a goal, and I will do what I must to achieve it.”

Alyna shook her head slightly. “I don’t see how having no limits is any different, Sylvanas. You need to figure out who you want to be, and fast.”

If she minded her lack of formality, Sylvanas didn’t show it. Alyna wasn’t even sure it was noticed as the queen appeared a little distracted in trying to find the right words to reply with. “It has … come to my attention that … I … have … lacked … perspective … of late.” Sylvanas pinched the bridge of her nose.

The familiar gesture resulted in Alyna smiling slightly, before it was wiped out by a shudder going through her body. _Not now!_ She willed her body to calm itself, and when that failed she hugged her knees tighter. She tried to sound amused when she said, “Someone stood up to you? That must have been quite the shock, considering your reaction to me doing it.”

The queen dropped her hand to the desk and clenched both fists tightly. “I have been unaccustomed to such, as you well know. But. I … trust … her. I have had a lot of thinking to do.”

Alyna was glad the candles were around Sylvanas and not herself, because she could not stop her jaw dropping in surprise. She felt a little dumb asking, “And?”

Sylvanas bit her lip slightly. Alyna could see the debate raging within the queen, so she did not prompt her any further. Instinct told her doing so would have just triggered an unwelcome explosion of the fiery temper the queen had nurtured in the past few years.

Slowly, the response came. “I have a long way to go. I … cannot fix, or change things … change _me_ … overnight.” The queen stood, the chair scraping loudly on the stone floor. She paced slightly, before eventually turning to Alyna and, very hesitantly, moving to sit beside her on the bed. She inhaled deeply, despite not needing to. “I realise I need help. I need … people I trust … to be honest with me. To say the things I don’t want to hear, but need to.” Her eyes flicked up to look at Alyna as she continued. “Most are too scared of me. Even Kyala is. I believe the only reason she had the courage to say what she did, was because of you.”

Alyna’s body was shaking uncontrollably, but she felt the odd sensation of being frozen. When Sylvanas almost tenderly took hold of her hand, she didn’t object. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She instead focused on trying to keep her hand still. The queen looked down at the ring Alyna still wore, and then, to her further surprise, Sylvanas removed her own gauntlet to show Alyna she still wore her own ring. Her eyes immediately flicked up to be caught by Sylvanas’ gaze.

“I need you, Alyna. I need you to be my voice of reason when no one else will.”

Alyna blinked slowly. “Wh-what makes you th-think I am s-such a v-voice?” She immediately winced at the tremor in her voice.

Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed at the tremor. She looked down at their hands and murmured, confusion evident, “You’re shaking.” She frowned, and looked back up at Alyna. Her eyes then slowly widened, and she looked away, unhooking their hands and tugging her gauntlet back on. Alyna had the distinct impression the queen knew why she was shaking, and she immediately felt embarrassed.

Sylvanas stood and looked down at Alyna. “I … realise this is a lot to take in. So, why don’t you sleep on it? You need rest and … we can talk about this later.”

Alyna frowned. “S-sleep?”

The queen moved to the bedside table and pulled out the top drawer. She picked up what appeared to be a scent stick, and lay it down on a long, wood plate. “Sleep sticks. They emit an alchemical scent that can help undead reach a deep meditative state. Our version of sleep. I’ve been told it can be relaxing.”

“You’ve been t-told?” Alyna parroted, frowning at the stick.

Sylvanas fiddled with a small piece of flint, eventually lighting the stick. “I do not find them effective, personally.” She moved around the bed to gather her paperwork from her desk. She held it like a shield against her chest as she looked back at Alyna. “I know you have more questions, and I will answer them, if I can. For now, rest well.”

Alyna shook her head as Sylvanas left. She then groaned as she lay down, her body aching with her need for release. She had hoped this ‘Awakening’ business was done with when she didn’t feel the urge when she first woke, but it would appear feeding had given her body the energy it required to focus on inconsequential things.

An unusual, but not unpleasant scent wafted over her, and she felt her body become heavy. It eased her urges, for which she was grateful. She allowed her eyelids to close, and her mind to wander to better times. Before long, she was asleep.

* * *

 

Sylvanas dropped her paperwork onto her office desk and grabbed the edges with her hands, using it to support her weight. She felt heavier, or perhaps that was just the weight of responsibility she was starting to feel for those she ruled finally starting to edge into her consciousness.

Or she just couldn’t cope with knowing Alyna needed to get laid. She groaned. She had been pleased with remembering that Alyna had to feed, but she had forgotten about the Awakening. Did Alyna have someone to satisfy the urge with?

She immediately felt guilty for asking the question, knowing what Talnia had done. Had there been anyone else? If not, how was she going to resolve the issue? Sex had definitely not been something Sylvanas herself had partaken in since death. She had gone there once, with Talnia, because she’d had no other option during her own Awakening. Thankfully, the once had been enough and she had quashed the remaining need through sheer willpower. What Alyna was going through was far worse, having been Scourge for so many years. It was a problem they were going to need to discuss, and she dreaded the imminent discussion. It was going to be a very difficult conversation, for many reasons. The sleep stick would only have put it off for a few hours.

_Who do you want to be?_

She hung her head as Alyna’s words echoed through her mind. She wanted to be alive, the wife of Alyna Salonar, and Ranger-General of Silvermoon. She wanted impossible things. She thought she had got over all of this years ago, but Alyna’s return was bringing it all back.

_You got what you wanted. Be careful what you wish for._

She snorted at her conscience. Be careful, indeed. She wished for the painful, agonising death of the Lich King, preferably at her hand. If getting Alyna back had caused so many problems for her, what would it cost her to get her way with Arthas? From what she was being told, it would currently cost her too much.

She had not thought about what would happen once he was dead. It had not mattered to her. That was a clear concern for Kyala, who had accepted her fate with enviable ease, and was apparently planning for a long future for the Forsaken. A future she didn’t want to spend defending a ‘lich queen’ she hated, it would seem. Alyna was worried about who Sylvanas was now, as well as what she’d become.

That was so typical of Alyna, even when they were alive, she mused. Sylvanas’ position had meant her energy went into the well-being of her rangers, and the protection of Quel’Thalas. It was Alyna who had looked after her, and made sure she was taken care of, even when not physically present. Now Sylvanas wasn’t even looking after her people. Kyala seemed to have taken on that mantle while her queen focused on her hatred and revenge.

Her hatred was what she was. She knew she could never let go of it. But, could she temper it?

Did she _want_ to?

A strong knock sounded on the door. She looked up and growled, “What?” She would welcome almost any distraction right now.

Heavy boots came into the room, worn by a small Forsaken female wearing the plate armour of a warrior. She held her simple helm tucked under her arm, and a large sword scabbard at her hip that jangled as she walked. She stopped a respectable distance from Sylvanas, and saluted. It took Sylvanas a moment to recognise her, having only met her new grand executor in person once before, several months ago.

“Megan Ryley, reporting for duty, Dark Lady.”

Sylvanas rose to her full height and nodded at the woman. “Grand Executor Ryley. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, my Lady. It is a great honour to serve.”

While her words were formal, Sylvanas could hear near-adoration in her voice.

_Who do you want to be?_

She berated her inner voice for its ceaselessness.

“I can come back later?”

Sylvanas looked at Ryley, realising the woman was still standing at attention waiting for her queen to say something. “No … no. Actually, your timing is perfect.” It was a blatant lie, but her guest was definitely buoyed by the compliment. She almost rolled her eyes. Instead, she gestured at the plain armour Ryley wore. “Have you not had a chance to visit the armourer yet?”

Ryley fidgeted slightly with her helm. “If you don’t mind, my Lady, I’d prefer to keep wearing my usual armour. With any additional rank adornment, of course.” Sylvanas raised a pale-yellow eyebrow. “With respect, my responsibilities have changed, but I do not need any fancy armour to shout about it. I’m just a soldier, and would prefer to look the part.”

The banshee queen couldn’t argue with that. She had a growing respect for the woman daring to speak her mind and express individuality on the topic. She had been a general who led from the front in armour similar to that of her rangers; she understood where Ryley was coming from.

“As you were then. So long as you get the job done, I have no care for what you wear. Just keep doing what you have been, just on a grander scale.”

Ryley snapped to attention again. “That’s the plan, my Lady.”

Sylvanas nodded. “Good. Because I’ll be throwing you into the fire.” She gestured over to the large table that held her basic Northrend map, and then walked over to it. She heard Ryley follow. “For now, there is not much to see. I hope to change that over the coming days and weeks. What you will do, is prepare for an invasion.”

To her credit, Ryley did not question the order. She was already a welcome replacement for Dillard, mused the queen. “Aye? Sounds exciting.” Ryley was leaning over the map, trying to get what detail she could. “Any thoughts on where you wish to make landfall, my Lady?”

The queen looked down at her grand executor. “Not yet. I will be sailing to Orgrimmar within the week to convince the Warchief that the time to go after the Lich King is now. When I return, I intend to have orders for war, and a target.”

The forsaken nodded her understanding, still examining the map. “I will begin preparations immediately. When you call for war, my Lady, we will be ready to follow you.”

Sylvanas did not get the feeling Ryley was saying such a thing because she knew it was what she wanted to hear. She actually sounded confident in doing just as she said. Sylvanas gave the woman a small, rare smile just as she looked back up. She then turned to return to her desk.

“You should know there are some who may make your life difficult owing to your rapid promotion,” Sylvanas stated idly.

As she sat at her desk and turned to look at Ryley, it appeared the woman was smiling. At least, Sylvanas got the feeling she was. It was hard to tell with most forsaken whose lips had decayed.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll try. In fact, I look forward to it.”

“Indeed?” Sylvanas was curious, but could wait to see what transpired between her senior officers. “Then, I will not keep you any further. Dismissed, Grand Executor. I look forward to your reports.”

Ryley snapped to attention before letting herself out of the office, leaving Sylvanas with her paperwork and nagging conscience.

* * *

 

Alyna woke slowly this time, though she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to wake up. Her mind had taken her back to happier times. It had been strange, experiencing them through a soul that was incapable of feeling the emotions she had in those days, but that didn’t really concern her. She knew what she had felt. She was under no illusion that she would ever have that back, but what could she have?

Sylvanas had suggested Alyna could forge an important place at her side. She already knew that would be enough for her, but only if the queen did not lead them into oblivion. She had actually asked for Alyna’s help, and that had shaken her to her core.

Was it an elaborate lie? She didn’t think so. She did believe Sylvanas had been sincere, but did the queen have the strength of conviction to follow through?

_Not alone. She needs you._

Did she? Perhaps.

As the last of the sleep stick dissipated, she sat up. The candles on the writing desk had almost burnt down to their holders, but there was no Sylvanas. She took the opportunity to look around the room, belatedly realising she was in a bedroom. Only now did she realise she was wearing a fresh tunic and pants. When did that happen? It didn’t matter. She was hungry, and she couldn’t see another meal waiting for her, though the other had been removed. She rose from the bed, and padded barefoot through the only door in the room, and down a darkened corridor.

She was slightly surprised to emerge into Sylvanas’ office. For her part, the queen appeared to be expecting her. And her hunger. As she had done hours before, she nodded in a direction, and Alyna found an unconscious human female. Inwardly, she sighed. She felt very self-conscious as she moved to the human, and even more so as she fed as she was keenly aware of being watched again. Perhaps, her nerves were a good thing as she felt no compulsion to go for the human’s soul this time. She gently lay the woman’s body down when she was done, and licked her lips to mop up any remaining blood.

She felt exposed, so she stood and walked over to the large map table in the room. She had noticed it previously, but had not had a chance to properly inspect the map. She realised now just how little Sylvanas and the Horde knew about the continent.

“Do you think you can help?” came the sudden, very near question. Alyna had not heard the queen move from her desk, and she was standing right behind her. A bolt of energy flashed through her, and she ignored it.

“Is this why you need me?”

The reply was not immediate, but it eventually came. “Your knowledge is invaluable. I won’t deny it was a driving factor in finding you. But, things have changed of late. I … have changed a little of late. Because of you.” Was she just saying what she wanted to hear? Alyna risked turning her head to look at the queen, and found red eyes looking back at her. She was not expecting the soft, worried, question. “Do you really think I am like him?”

Alyna’s mouth opened wordlessly, then closed. She turned to face Sylvanas fully before slowly replying, “I can see his influence in you, but no. Not yet. Not quite.”

The answer visibly disturbed the queen. She clenched her teeth, and Alyna felt the need to expand on her answer. “You don’t see your people as people. You see arrows in your quiver, and you expect them to obey like mindless tools. That is no different to the Lich King.”

Feebly, Sylvanas muttered, “There would be chaos if I did not enforce my will.”

Alyna scoffed. “Would there be? Do you have so little faith in them? Surely there are leaders amongst them, as there are in any society.” She could see Sylvanas thinking, and she decided to give her something else to think about. “Or is it you have little faith in yourself, and you want them to need you?”

That got a reaction. “What the hell does that mean?”

Alyna shrugged lightly. “It’s been five years, and all you have is an empty map, and a decomposing army. I _know_ you, Sylvanas. That must be deeply frustrating for you.”

A tremor went through Alyna, and she was too slow in containing it. Sylvanas narrowed her eyes, and did what she did best by turning her discomfort into another topic entirely.

“Why did you not tell me?”

At her confused expression, Sylvanas gently touched Alyna’s elbow to raise her arm. She could see the limb was shaking, and she grasped her own hand to stop it, before sighing. “There’s not exactly much you would have done. Why share my humiliation with you when there was nothing to be gained?”

The queen sounded slightly hurt. “I could have protected you.”

Alyna laughed bitterly. “Could have, yes. But _would_ you have? You forced me to humiliate myself with the Tauren. You _gave_ me to Talnia like some sacrificial animal, and were more than happy to have me do menial tasks for her sadistic amusement. You did nothing to protect me, and she took _full_ advantage of that.”

Sylvanas looked away, shame colouring her features and posture. The change in her was so stark, it shocked Alyna, as did the next words she heard. “I’m sorry.”

The gravity of the words sunk into Alyna, and she realised the queen knew more than Alyna herself had admitted to. “You … know. How?”

The queen winced. “You … mentioned Talnia’s name in the cell. Kyala filled in the rest.”

“Oh.” Alyna felt a little silly for the utterance, but she had nothing else to say. She had no recollection of what Sylvanas was saying, but it clearly happened.

Something sinister flashed through the queen’s features. “She is no longer a captain, and will reside in my cells for quite some time. Until she learns obedience.”

Part of Alyna wanted to object, to point out it was a very Lich King thing to do. But she couldn’t. She felt no remorse, and quite enjoyed the thought of Talnia suffering. She nodded her understanding. While she didn’t want Sylvanas to become what they both hated, there would be limits. They were both undead creatures of hate, and there would only be so much they could do to fight their nature.

She did think it was important that they did fight, and she realised if she could support Sylvanas in her own battle, she very much wanted to do so. On her own terms.

“I … can’t be an arrow, Sylvanas.”

The queen focused her gaze on Alyna’s black eyes. She smiled, slowly. “I don’t want you to be an arrow, Alyna. I don’t _need_ another arrow. I want you to be my bow.” On the surface, it would appear she was asking Alyna to be her chosen weapon, but she knew better. A ranger’s bow was not just a weapon, but a constant companion that never left the side of its owner. “Will you do that? For me?”

Alyna arched a white eyebrow. Eventually, she felt herself nodding. “For both of us, not just for you.”

Sylvanas gave her a brief nod. “Acceptable.” She then frowned at Alyna’s increasingly visible condition. “Do you … have someone … to help? Or was it always …?”

Her inability to finish the sentence told Alyna just how guilty the queen felt. She looked away. The subject made her feel uncomfortable. “Kyala was … about to help, one time. Until we were interrupted.”

“I … see,” came the awkward response. “Do you … want me to see if she is … available?”

Alyna hugged herself as she let out a half-laugh. “And if she says no, are you going to make it an order?”

“No! I … no.” Alyna noted that at least Sylvanas looked like she meant it. It was a small relief. It didn’t stop the rising fire inside her though. With a growing realisation, she knew there was only one person she would even consider lying with if she had a choice.

Sylvanas appeared to sense her thoughts through her gaze as she hesitantly asked, “What?”

Alyna sighed and hung her head, leaning back against the table. “You still wear your ring.”

“I … took it off, for a while. It somehow felt wrong, so I put it back on.” Alyna nodded her understanding. She had felt the same way. “Why?” Alyna didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She didn’t have the words. Thankfully, that didn’t matter as Sylvanas filled in the blanks. “Wait. You … want me … to …” The queen’s feet shuffled about as the realisation hit her. “I … don’t do … sex.”

“Except with Talnia.”

She felt more than saw Sylvanas flail in reaction. “That was once! And we have already established that I have made a few mistakes!”

The panic in Sylvanas’ voice was almost amusing. Her queen was a prude. She sighed, and pushed away from the table. She had not been dismissed, but she started moving towards the corridor she had emerged from earlier. “I’ll … take care of it.”

A strong hand grasped her upper arm and Alyna felt herself be spun back around to face Sylvanas. She was surprised at the move, but Sylvanas seemed more surprised at her own action. Neither of them moved for long moments. Eventually, slowly, Sylvanas raised her gloved hand to gently take Alyna’s chin between her fingers.

Her voice shook. “I cannot undo what’s been done, but I can help you now, if you really want me to.”

Alyna had no words. She nodded.

Sylvanas gave her a nervous chuckle. “Remember, this was your idea.”

Again, neither of them moved. It reminded Alyna of two inexperienced adolescents not quite knowing how to start. Perhaps Sylvanas had thought the same, as they then both moved together.

Their lips met, unsurely at first. Sylvanas seemed to hesitate a moment, and Alyna realised she could probably taste the blood of her meal in her mouth. She watched the other woman process what she was sensing, and it appeared Sylvanas was not repulsed by it as she shortly leant forward again to restart the kiss.

That was all it took for Alyna to let go of her considerable restraint. She felt her arousal flash through her body, and she pulled Sylvanas into her, desperately hungry for the woman. The queen stiffened slightly, but quickly relaxed. Alyna wanted to be mindful of the length of time it had been for Sylvanas, but she was finding it difficult to even think.

Though it would appear she didn’t need to worry as Sylvanas bent down to grab the back of her thighs, to lift her onto the table. She spread her knees, and the queen moved between them, their kiss resuming. It was almost savage, and Alyna knew her fangs had cut Sylvanas as neither were really accustomed to their presence during such an activity.

Right now, she didn’t care. The pressure of Sylvanas pressing their bodies together thrilled and delighted her in ways she had thought she would never experience again. She heard herself whimper, and the queen gave her a throaty chuckle. Hands moved down her back to hook into the top of her pants, and she felt them be tugged down. She shifted her weight, and they were removed.

And then fingers were inside her. She groaned deeply. She felt Sylvanas hold her with one arm, as her fingers worked inside her with a familiarity that had not been forgotten. The touch was not gentle, but that was not what Alyna needed. She focused on her building release, trying to rock her hips onto the strong fingers. When it came, she felt overwhelmed by the intensity of it, and bit down on the queen’s shoulder. Undead blood was vile to her senses, but her pleasure appeared to override her disgust. This was Sylvanas. Her general, her queen.

She heard another husky chuckle as she lay against Sylvanas. She wasn’t quite sure what had amused her, but when she removed her fingers, Alyna felt oddly empty. A slender arm hooked itself under her knees as the other braced against her back, and she felt herself be lifted. She opened her eyes and realised Sylvanas was carrying her down the corridor. When she was laid on the bed, the queen began to remove her own clothing and the couple pieces of armour she had worn. Alyna removed her tunic, and watched her queen. Her body was pale grey, but it was just as perfect in undeath as it had been in life, and Alyna admired every curve as it was exposed.

And then Sylvanas was beside her, pulling their bodies together again. She was being claimed, she knew, just as much as Sylvanas was helping her. She found she didn’t mind. Sylvanas’ touch was soft and rough in equal measure, and she almost felt like she was being cleansed. She moaned, and sighed, her body undulating against the woman she used to love, and was somehow still inextricably connected to.

As the last candle fluttered and went out, she gave herself fully to her queen as they were plunged into darkness.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N - Don't get used to this 3 chapters a week business lol Christmas will soon put a stop to the rabid updates.**

* * *

 

The knock on the door sounded just as Alyna tugged down her top over her breasts. “Come,” she permitted as she walked over to the small table where most of her armour had landed. She was on board the flagship of the Forsaken navy, _The Windrunner_ , and had been for several days. She was currently in Sylvanas’ quarters, which doubled as her office.

The door creaked on its iron hinges as it swung open, the salt-laden air having its say. Kyala’s hooded form slid around the door before she closed it, and leant back onto it.

“Are you okay?”

Alyna blinked as she reached for her vambraces. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just saw Lady Sylvanas leave, and she was not in a good moo…” She had been looking around the room as she spoke, and had seen the unmade cotbed in the corner. “…what did you do?”

Alyna started strapping on her pauldrons. “I did nothing. Putress, however, is about to get an earful.”

Kyala shook her head in amazement. She gestured at the cotbed. “I don’t call _that_ nothing. I’ve never seen it unmade before. Did … you … and her …?”

The former blood princess looked up at her near-friend, one boot on, and the other in her hand. “Did you not wonder how I was dealing with my ‘minor’ urges?”

Kyala frowned. “Well, yes, but … I don’t know what I thought you were doing about it. I just figured you were handling it, so that was fine. But, Alyna, the Dark Lady? She just had you tortured!” She was obviously distressed.

Both boots on, Alyna leant back against the table, regarding the woman she knew spied for the queen. “I am aware of that,” she replied dryly.

“And you’re … okay … physically …?”

Alyna frowned at her, trying to figure out what she was getting at. “There are no lingering effects from the torture, no.” Kyala looked relieved, if confused. Alyna was slightly amused. “I realise you all fear those cells, but a few hours in them really is nothing compared to what the Lich King is capable of. It was … very unpleasant … but slightly laughable as torture.” She didn’t intend it to sound like a humble brag, but it was the simple truth. She was used to far, far worse. She did feel her shoulders slump slightly as she added, “It hurts more that she sent me there with the intention in the first place.”

The ranger was clearly speechless. After some mute, frantic gestures from Kyala that showed her complete bafflement, Alyna sighed, and continued. “I have a problem, and she is helping me. Though, I should point out, that was only the second time, and _only_ out of necessity. Do I trust her? Not exactly.” She paused. “I want to. But, as I told her, trust is earned. I suppose you could say we are working on that part.” She chuckled before adding, “You can close your mouth now.”

Kyala’s hanging jaw snapped shut. “So … you’re not …?”

“Together? A couple?” She heard herself laugh. “No. And I would appreciate complete sentences. You’re testing my non-existent mindreading skills.”

The ranger’s head tilted in confusion before she shook it. “I admit, she has been different of late. I thought she was going to rip my head off, or put me in a cell beside Talnia. But, here I am. Limbs and head intact. I think she even almost thanked me, but that might have been the light.”

Alyna looked down at the floor for a moment before she raised her black gaze to Kyala. “About that … I have not had the chance to say thank you for the part you played in my ‘rescue’. So, thank you.”

Kyala waved away the gratitude. “I did my duty, Alyna. For all our sakes, not just for you.”

Somehow, Alyna quashed her urge to roll her eyes at the loyal response. “I do recall you pointing out my lack of gratitude not too long ago. The least you could do is accept it when I offer it.”

The wide-eyed ranger stared at Alyna before letting out a short, barked laugh. “Fair enough.” Kyala strode over to the large Northrend map table that Alyna had been diligently working on for most of the trip. She picked up a small piece that was representative of a Forsaken army group as she asked, “So, what’s this about Putress?”

Alyna had followed, and plucked the small piece from Kyala’s fingers to replant it on her carefully managed table. Grand Apothecary Putress was one of the chief apothecaries of the Forsaken's Royal Apothecary Society. He was currently conducting experiments in the ship’s hold. Kyala pouted as she had her toy confiscated. Alyna responded, “He killed my dinner.”

Kyala tilted her head. “That … sounds … unfortunate.”

The former princess shrugged. “He was expressly told not to use what was marked for me for his experiments. Either he disregarded the order, or he’s had an accident.”

“With the new plague?”

“I would presume so.”

Kyala folded her arms, her features relaxing into a thoughtful expression. “I’ve heard it’s very potent.”

Alyna guided the other woman away from her meticulously prepared map, lest she start playing with the pieces again. “It is. Which is why Lady Sylvanas wishes to know how it works.”

When she and Sylvanas had finished their copulation almost a week ago, Alyna had been convinced to use a sleep stick. When she had awoken, Sylvanas was gone. She had found her at the centre of a maelstrom of activity. Mysterious crates of grain had begun appearing all around Azeroth, in a pattern that was eerily similar to how the plague of undeath started in Lordaeron seven years ago, which had also started with contaminated grain. Predictably enough, people had begun to get sick, and they had turned into mindless undead once they died. The survival rate was zero, and the conversion rate was rapid, and total.

Sylvanas had been simultaneously impressed, and concerned. Impressed because of the potency of it as she had been searching for a way to boost her own recruitment process for many years, with only small amounts of success. Concerned, because none of her apothecaries had created the plague. She had no doubt this was the Lich King at work. He had begun his attack on the civilisations of Azeroth, and they were not prepared for this kind of warfare. They had set sail for Orgrimmar immediately, on the other side of the Great Sea.

Kyala looked Alyna up and down. “We’re due to reach Durotar tomorrow. You’ll be fine until then?”

She nodded. “It was more a convenience than anything. Lady Sylvanas has been very attentive to my dietary needs.”

“That’s a fancy way to say she is fussing over you.”

Alyna sighed. “I believe she is trying to make up for past mistakes.”

Kyala looked, and sounded, sceptical. “Apologise for isolation and torture with food. And sex.”

She narrowed her black eyes at the ranger. “When did you become such a critic of your beloved Queen?”

“Do not confuse my loyalty for blindness, or ignorance, Alyna.” Red eyes met her own. “There are things I do not always approve of, but they are her choices to make and they usually make _some_ kind of sense. I follow the chain of command, as I always have. What she was doing to you though? That did not make sense.” Kyala relaxed slightly. “I am relieved things appear to be working out for the better. Do you know what company you’ll be joining?”

Alyna shook her head. “Not yet. I doubt I will be joining one until she is done learning what she can from me about Northrend.” Not to mention she still had certain urges to take care of.

Kyala’s elven ears drooped slightly. “That sounds like it could take a while. I’m … going to miss you when I go back to my company.”

Alyna smiled slightly. “Perhaps I can join yours? If I get a choice, I will certainly ask.”

A pair of elven ears immediately perked up again. “That would be fun.”

She couldn’t help but agree.

* * *

 

Sylvanas stood on the prow of her ship as it approached the shores of Kalimdor. Her cloak snapped around her in the breeze, though her hood remained perfectly in place on her head even as her hair rebelled. To anyone looking closely enough, she had a small smile on her fine features.

And what wasn’t there to smile about?

The Lich King had finally made a move she felt the warchief could no longer ignore. Putress had announced he was close to finding out the secrets of the new plague, so she would soon have a precious resource at her disposal. Even his accident yesterday had not dampened her mood, though she had made her disappointment at his recklessness clear. And, thanks to Alyna, her plans for Northrend had advanced at a rate that almost made her feel giddy.

Her smile widened a little further. She wouldn’t be admitting it to anyone any time soon, but she had enjoyed the couple of trysts with her former fiancée. She had not really known what to expect when she pulled Alyna back from walking away from her last week. She just knew if anyone was going to help her with such an intimate thing, it had to be her. Even if it felt like a chore, she did not want anyone else to know her Alyna as she did.

It had definitely not felt like a chore. She had even been pleasantly surprised when Alyna had reciprocated. She now felt physically lighter, and more fluid in her movement. Which was nonsense, but she enjoyed the sensation of her body feeling more powerful regardless, even if it was just her imagination.

Her ears picked up the groan of aged wood just as the rising sun cast the shadow of the new arrival into her vision. She knew it was Alyna, and she decided she felt comfortable enough to not turn around.

“The cartographer has completed the smaller map you requested, my Lady.”

She nodded. “Good. Just in time.” She gestured to the horizon where dusky red cliffs and hills had come into view. “We will arrive soon.” She felt more than saw Alyna taking in the view. She knew Alyna had never been to Kalimdor before, let alone the home of the orcs in Durotar. The large city of Orgrimmar had sprung up from literally nothing to become the centre of the Horde in just a few short years.

When she had first seen the city a few years ago, even the queen had been impressed. Durotar was a desert, with almost no natural resources, and certainly none that could be used in construction. Instead, the orcs had turned to the forest of Ashenvale for their building materials, greatly angering the local kaldorei, or night elves, who called the forest home. They had been at war ever since.

“It looks barren,” observed Alyna.

“It is. As predictably simple as the orcs can be, they are highly adept at surviving in hostile areas.” She turned her head to regard Alyna thoughtfully. “Never forget that.”

Alyna nodded her understanding. She then noted, “It will be interesting to see how they fare in Northrend. Hostile is very much a word I would use for it.”

“Indeed. They will certainly be … useful.” Sylvanas narrowed her eyes as she tried to get a good look at her latest ranger, the sun slightly blinding her. “I will secure a meal for you once we arrive, to make up for what was lost.”

Alyna just nodded, much to the queen’s relief. They had almost argued earlier about the woman’s lack of desire to feed as often as she should. A part of her understood. Arthas had done this to her, and Alyna was trying to rebel at what she was because of it. Sylvanas had no need to eat, and it was a freedom she had not fully appreciated until recently. Alyna would always hunger in a manner they never had even when alive, and she would always be fighting it. Sylvanas noted the simple reality, in itself, was a form of constant torture for the woman.

Regardless, she needed Alyna to be fighting fit at all times, and keeping herself fuelled was part of their new bargain. She did have a couple of rangers who had dabbled in magic outside of her dark ranger teachings, but she was fully aware that Alyna was a powerful sorceress, as well as a promising ranger. She still didn’t know how powerful, but she was going to get a full demonstration once they were home. She had already made plans to have some of her Forsaken find suitable humans for Alyna to feed on once they were home on a regular basis. She was not going to have Alyna waste time hunting when that could be done for her. She just needed to decide whether she was going to unleash Alyna on the worgen, or on the Scourge beyond the Bulwark. She was greatly looking forward to seeing what her new bow could do.

Sylvanas had turned to watch their approach, with Alyna at her side. She could hear their cloaks fluttering, and she found she enjoyed the silent companionship. Too many felt the need to talk when she would rather they didn’t, and it inevitably led to her snapping at them. Alyna knew better. Alyna was still in tune with her, despite the passage of time. Alyna was here, and she would not have it any other way.

She allowed another small smile.

The wood of the ship creaked as the bow rose and fell with each wave. Unlike the living races, the Forsaken did not build ships conventionally. Instead, they scoured the seabed and raised the fallen wrecks to make them seaworthy again. It was somehow fitting. She currently had several teams doing just that along the coast of old Lordaeron as part of her war preparations. While slightly hampered by the worgen, she had faith that her new grand executor could handle the situation.

Activity on the deck began to pick up as they rapidly approached the dock. She could see the zeppelin towers in the distance just outside of Orgrimmar. One of the large, floating vehicles was currently docked to a tower, no doubt waiting for fee-paying passengers with more money than sense who had no stomach for the high seas. Given the choice, Sylvanas would always choose the peril of the sea over handing her safety over to a half-crazy goblin on a zeppelin, hundreds of feet up in the sky.

Skeletal and booted feet alike clattered around the deck as orders were shouted. The sailors she had with her were the best she had, and they worked diligently like the drilled crew they were. The ship slowed as the sails were pulled down. Oars were pushed out of the side of the flagship to bring the groaning vessel alongside the dock in a more controlled fashion. Muscled, green figures on the dock scurried around as ropes were thrown down to them.

She narrowed her eyes. Most of the figures were running around. Three remained rooted to where they stood. She realised she had a welcoming party. That did not bode well. She had never been met at the dock before as normal protocol had her escort wait for her at the gates to the city.

She glanced back at Alyna, her tone brusque. “Go get Putress and meet me at the gangway. Have the horses prepared.”

Alyna was astute, as always. “Something wrong, my Lady?”

Sylvanas kept her eyes on the three proud orcs as the docking procedure was being finalised. “Your meal may have to wait.”

She did not give her ranger the answer she had wanted, but Sylvanas was not sure herself. She was not going to be caught on the backfoot though. Alyna sensed she had been dismissed, and had left to obey her orders. Not about to tip her hand, Sylvanas casually stepped down from the prow and made her way to where the gangway would be pushed out.

* * *

 

Alyna gazed fiercely over the side of the gladiatorial area. The circular pit below was made from hard-packed sand. She could see pinkish stains in some areas where they had tried to brush out the blood. She understood the need for a warrior to test their skills, but this kind of blood sport was pointless to her. All it did was maim and kill those who were weaker on the day, but still valuable. All in the name of orcish ‘honour’. She found it distasteful.

Behind her, a debate raged between three orcs, her queen, and the grand apothecary. They had disembarked and were immediately escorted through the rough city to this ‘Ring of Valor’, where a long table had been set up with refreshments.

The quietest of the orcs was apparently one of their elders, High Overlord Varok Saurfang. He was battle-scarred and aged to look at, but his olive-skinned body was still lean and strong. When he spoke, the warchief listened. Warchief Thrall was a curious lime-green specimen. Sylvanas had told her he was raised in a human concentration camp after the Second War, and had led his people to freedom when they rebelled. She recalled his name being mentioned years ago in despatches, but the elves had not got involved. While clearly an orc, his demeanour certainly displayed human traits.

The third orc was even more curious. He was massive, even for their kind. He also had brown skin. Putress had quietly informed her that all orcs had originally been brown, before fel magic had corrupted them once they had tethered themselves to the Legion. Garrosh Hellscream was from their original home world, now called Outland, and had allied himself with the Horde.

He was also young, ill-tempered, and brash.

Alyna had turned her back to the scene because he was currently addressing her queen in such a manner that made her blood boil. If she made any eye-contact at this point she would create a diplomatic incident. She clenched her fist tightly, the leather cracking with a satisfying sound.

“How do we know they are telling the truth, Warchief?” came the shouted question. “The plague does not affect them! This could be a ploy to get us to commit to a trap!”

“It is a plague of undeath,” came the weary voice of the grand apothecary. “Its aim is to create undead. As we are already undead, we cannot be made into what we already are.”

It would have been amusing if it wasn’t the third time he had had to explain it to the hot-blooded orc.

“Enough, Garrosh,” she heard Thrall admonish. “I am convinced Lady Sylvanas and the Forsaken have had no hand in this plague. Even _they_ would not be so desperate as to do such a thing to force us to Northrend.”

Alyna wasn’t so sure. She kept looking down into the arena.

“The Cult of the Damned were responsible for distributing the original plague,” she heard herself say. “The lich, Kel’Thuzad, still leads them. They will be doing the same now.”

“Bah!” spat Garrosh. “She speaks like she knows them. We have no idea where the grain shipments have been coming from. We are only now able to detect the corrupted crates from the pure.”

At this, Alyna turned slowly. She fixed her black eyes onto the young orc, and gave him what she hoped was a disturbing smile. “But I _do_ know them. Very, _very_ well.”

Brown eyes widened briefly, before he scrunched his face into a snarl. “You sound like a traitor.”

Thrall gave Sylvanas a curious look. “This is the one you mentioned?”

The banshee queen gave him a small nod. “Yes, Warchief. Alyna has already been invaluable, and I have no doubt her experience will be what wins us this war.” To prove the point, Sylvanas presented the smaller version of the map Alyna had worked hard on over the past week with her cartographer. She placed it down on the table next to the best map the Horde had available of the frozen northern continent. The difference was so stark they might well have been two different places.

Saurfang leaned closer for a look, before he straightened and nodded his approval at Alyna. She gave him a brief nod in return. The old orc was proving interesting.

“That is just the start of what she can tell us, Warchief.” Sylvanas allowed pride to tinge her words. Alyna wondered if it was genuine, or a clever effect.

Garrosh appeared to have seen enough. “Thrall … Warchief … your armies await your command. Let me lead them to Northrend to remove this undead menace!”

For once, Sylvanas agreed with him. “Yes, Thrall. The time has come to kill Arthas. You can take my grand apothecary with you. His knowledge will be invaluable against whatever the Scourge will throw at you.”

While Putress did try to sound enthusiastic at working alongside the orcs, his effort fell slightly short of sounding genuine to Alyna’s ears. “It would be an honour, Dark Lady.”

Thrall looked warily at his chief advisor. “What say you, Saurfang?”

The old orc stared at the map. “Warchief, it is clear that Northrend represents the gravest threat to our people, and that we must act against it. But this foe is unlike any other. Caution must be advised.”

Thrall spoke slowly, trying to air his thoughts. “My soul burns for revenge, but the elements tell me to think clearly. The Lich King is a ruthless opponent … one who must be handled carefully.” He looked down at the map. “We will send scouts to assess the situation. I will also convene with the Lady Proudmoore and see what plans the Alliance has.”

Alyna wanted to groan. She had no idea who this Proudmoore was, and really didn’t care. She decided to intervene.

“With respect, Warchief. I can tell you what your scouts will find. He is ready for us. He _has_ been ready for quite some time.”

The soft-spoken Warchief gave her a surprisingly steely gaze. “I have made my decision.”

Garrosh threw his arms up dramatically. “Gragh! I cannot take this!” Alyna couldn’t blame him. “While you talk and deliberate, our enemies grow stronger! Were it my choice, I would have put all our available forces onto that frozen rock and conquered it for the Horde!”

Letting his temper show, Thrall turned on Garrosh. “If this is a trap, it is one I will not blindly walk into! Do not make the same mistakes as your father, Garrosh!”

Garrosh snapped his head around. Alyna could see veins pulsing in his neck. He stabbed a large finger at Thrall. “After all that he did for YOU and YOUR people? MAK'GORA!”

Thrall looked surprised at the orcish word. So was Alyna. She had no idea what it meant, but her eyes widened slightly when the warchief angrily snarled his reply.

“You challenge _me_ , boy? I don’t have time for this …”

Garrosh spat on the floor. “So, you refuse? Is the son of Durotan a coward?”

Thrall pointed at the arena she had been looking into earlier. “Inside!”

Garrosh grabbed at the two hand axes he’d had across his back, while Thrall collected a large, intricate hammer from where he had propped it up against the table. They both descended a stairway that presumably led down to the arena.

Sylvanas angrily turned on Saurfang. Before she got a word out, the elder orc held his hand up. “I cannot stop it, Banshee Queen. Thrall has been challenged; honour demands he see this through if you want your army.”

She clearly wanted to reply. Her eyes flashed in fury before she turned to move to stand next to Alyna as they both looked into the arena. The combatants were squaring off, weapons raised.

They could hear Thrall say, “Let’s finish this quickly.”

The reply was almost screamed. “Your duties as a warchief can wait! For now … we fight!”

Garrosh charged at his leader. Thrall raised his hammer to parry, and only just managed to do so in time. The three undead and Saurfang watched as they traded blows.

“Who is Garrosh’s father?” Alyna asked quietly.

She had expected Sylvanas to answer but, to her surprise, it was Saurfang’s deep voice that replied. “He was the best of us, and the worst of us. Chieftain of the Warsong clan, it was he who first drank the demonic blood that bound us to the Legion. But, in his finest hour, it was he who freed us from the blood-curse. It was an act that demanded his life be sacrificed in the process.”

Alyna nodded her understanding, even if the reply was a little dramatic. “His son did not follow his father to war?”

She felt Saurfang’s discomfort at the question. “That … is a complicated answer. And a personal one best spoken of by Garrosh himself.”

“I see.” She didn’t, but it ended the conversation.

Below, things were getting difficult for the warchief. He was struggling to push back against the strength of the young orc’s blows. One particularly savage axe-chop slammed down onto the hilt of his hammer as he held it over his head. The force of it pushed Thrall to his knees.

The warchief cried out, “GYAH!”

Garrosh sounded exhilarated. “Hah! So, son of Durotan, what—”

An impossibly loud voice suddenly boomed through the air, causing the two orcs to stop and look up, as if they could see the speaker. Both Sylvanas and Alyna had to cover their sensitive ears. If Alyna had blood, she knew it would have frozen at the words.

“PUPS OF ORGRIMMAR! HEAR ME, BRASH UPSTARTS OF THE HORDE! TREMBLE, AND KNOW YOUR DOOM, FOR THE LICH KING'S GAZE IS FIXED UPON YOU!”

Almost immediately, she could hear screams coming from outside, followed by frantic shouts and the unmistakable sound of people being cut down. Sylvanas, Alyna and Saurfang immediately ran to the nearby exit.

Huge, lumbering abominations, undead creatures stitched together from multiple bodies, were stomping heavily through the valley below. The damage caused by their cleavers and hooks was immense, and deadly.

A familiar screech echoed through the air, and Alyna looked up. Large frost wyrms were dive-bombing the population, their breath attacks leaving large swathes of frozen destruction. They were arriving in waves, and in their clenched claws they carried the abominations. She watched as one was dropped through the roof of a house.

Saurfang immediately ran back inside the arena.

“Warchief! Scourge forces are attacking Orgrimmar!”


	15. Chapter 15

“We need higher ground!” demanded Sylvanas.

Saurfang looked back into the arena just as Thrall arrived. The warchief nodded at the high overlord. “Take them where they need to go. Garrosh, go with them. I’ll deal with things here.”

Saurfang looked between his warchief and the young orc. He appeared about to object at leaving his warchief, but the rapid arrival of the elite Kor’kron personal guard settled his concern. He turned to Sylvanas. “This way.”

The queen looked at Alyna and gestured for her to follow before she lightly trotted after the surprisingly quick orc. They left the arena grounds, and turned right, heading up the valley wall.

Alyna cried out behind them, “Stop!”

Sylvanas did so immediately, trusting her ranger. To his credit, so did Saurfang. Garrosh took another couple of steps before he stopped to turn around and look at Alyna with an impatient glare. Had he taken one more step, he would not have had the opportunity. The ground and air rapidly froze in front of them as a large wyrm strafed the ground with its breath attack.

Both orcs stared at the deadly patch for a moment, both very aware of their mortal existence. They did not get a chance to contemplate it any longer as the wyrm dropped its cargo as it passed, the abomination landing heavily on the frozen ground. Cracks radiated out from where it landed, causing all four of them to move their feet to avoid injury.

It was easily twice the height of the tallest of them, and many times heavier. Sylvanas raised an eyebrow at the subconscious facial expressions the orcs wore. She knew the creature smelt of rotted flesh. They then raised their axes and charged at it, screaming their orcish war cry, “Lok’tar ogar!” Victory or death.

For her part, Sylvanas retreated to stand near Alyna as she loaded her bow and tensed the string. Both rangers watched the fight in a state of readiness, knowing normal arrows would not do much to an abomination until it was wounded.

“Can you cast anything?” she asked Alyna.

Alyna gave her a brief glance. “I haven’t fed.”

Sylvanas cursed Putress under her breath. If he hadn’t been one of her best apothecaries, she would have killed him. She looked around, and could see civilians and soldiers dead, and dying. She looked back at Alyna. “Then feed. I need your spells. Target the dying.”

Alyna nodded her understanding. She released the tension on her bow and trotted down into the valley.

The abomination roared, and the queen could see a deep gash had been opened in its stomach. All manner of rotting organs and viscera were spilling out, but she knew it was not a fatal wound for such an undead creature. She raised her bow and focused her energy into the arrow. A dark shadow twisted around the projectile just as she released it, and the sound it made as it travelled was not unlike a banshee’s wail. It screamed through the air and slammed into the wound, sinking deeply into the abomination. Familiar with the attack, Saurfang grabbed Garrosh and forced the orc into a retreat.

The abomination exploded a second later, covering both of them in rotting flesh. Saurfang took the development in his stride, being a veteran of some horrific battles. Garrosh was incensed.

“Whose side are you on, Banshee Queen?” he yelled.

“Stand down, Garrosh!” Saurfang grabbed the younger orc’s pauldron and tried to swing him round, but Garrosh was focused on something he could see down in the valley.

“What, by the Spirits, is that undead _bitch_ doing to our people?!”

Sylvanas turned, and realised she was about to have a problem on her hands. Alyna was kneeling, and feeding from a limp female orc. The woman’s chest and abdomen had been brutally slashed open in what was fatal wound, but Alyna was keeping her alive long enough to get what she could. To Garrosh, it would look like Alyna was somehow attacking her as she fed from the bite on her neck.

Garrosh roared in fury and charged down the path towards Alyna with his axes raised, clearly intent on not just stopping her, but killing her. Sylvanas loaded her bow, but hesitated. If she killed Garrosh, which she was perfectly capable of doing with one arrow, she would create a diplomatic incident that could jeopardise her mission to Northrend.

She decided Alyna’s only hope was to notice the charging orc. She was about to shout a warning, but it appeared Garrosh’s roar was enough to alert her ranger. Alyna looked up, and dropped the orc she had been feeding on.

Blood still around her mouth, Alyna drew a hand back. A dark purple flame rapidly built to what Sylvanas recognised as a ball of shadowflame within her palm. With the aid of her other hand, she empowered the small ball into a raging inferno twice the size of a head within a second. She stepped forward and threw the powerful concoction at the charging orc.

And missed.

As Garrosh stumbled to a surprised stop, the spell flew well over his head.

A terrifying screech caused even Sylvanas to wince and raise her arm protectively. As she looked, she felt her jaw drop slightly. A large frost wyrm flashed past Garrosh’s head to smash into the ground with the sickening crunch of many bones snapping. Its momentum carried it down into the valley towards Alyna. As Sylvanas watched, the lithe ranger vaulted herself into the air as it reached her, landing on top of the still sliding mess. It came to a stop a few meters later, and Alyna calmly jumped down. As she walked towards them, the pile of frozen bone burst into dark purple flames.

She couldn’t help herself. Sylvanas laughed. If Alyna had not brought down the wyrm, Garrosh would have been grasped in its claws, and no doubt crushed before being dropped from a great height.

Garrosh seemed to be aware of his narrow escape, and he let Alyna pass without a word. Sylvanas turned to Saurfang, who had also watched the whole scene.

“You knew she could do that,” the queen stated bluntly. They both knew she was referring to Alyna’s feeding. Saurfang had not moved to stop her as Garrosh had.

The old orc narrowed his eyes at her before giving her a curt nod. He clearly did not approve, but Sylvanas realised he had taken the whole scene in and had come to the correct assumption – Alyna had fed from those who would be dead soon. Perhaps even mercifully sparing them a long, painful death. Sylvanas made a mental note that while Garrosh had been at Thrall’s side, the warchief was clearly not sharing everything with the brash orc.

“We are exposed here,” Saurfang observed, perhaps needlessly.

Sylvanas looked past him, up the valley. “It will take too long to get to higher ground.” She turned her head to take in their surroundings. “Are there any solid roofs we could make use of?” Saurfang followed her example, and started looking around. Most of the roofs in Orgrimmar were made from red tile, but the homes immediately around them had roofs mainly constructed from hide.

As Alyna and Garrosh joined them, Saurfang pointed his large axe westwards. “This way. We can get to a watch tower in a few minutes. That is the best choice we’ll have for height.”

“It will have to do,” she agreed.

They weaved through the blood-soaked streets at a jog, stepping over bodies and ignoring cries for help. The carnage of the surprise attack was severe, but the queen’s ears could pick up the sound of resistance in other parts of the city.

As they rounded a corner, a large object fell just before them and shattered into countless frozen pieces. With a quick assessment, Sylvanas realised it was a wyvern and its orc rider. They must have foolishly got too close to a wyrm only to be breathed on. She knew that if they couldn’t get the wyrms out of the sky, the fighting on the ground would be for nothing. That was where the advantage of the attack lay, and they had to stop it.

Further on, she could see the watch tower. In front of it, hacking away at hapless orcs, was another abomination.

Garrosh growled as he raised his axes again. “Good, I don’t like it when things are too easy.”

Sylvanas wanted to roll her eyes.

Alyna then stepped forward, already preparing a spell. “I’ve got this.” She raised her hand and a white beam was cast from her palm at the creature. Its multiple arms, each holding a bloodied weapon, flailed as the beam hit it. Sylvanas could feel the cold it emitted. It turned to start lumbering towards them, but it did not get very far. White frost spread rapidly from where the beam impacted. The arms stopped moving, as did the stocky legs. The abomination roared, and even that was halted as the frost reached its throat, and encased its head.

When it was fully frozen, Alyna drew her bow, and trotted over to the abomination. With a vicious swing, she smashed through the middle of the brittle statue. The top half fell, splintering when it hit the ground.

Sylvanas felt a small smile quirk at her lips. She was definitely enjoying what her new bow could do. Garrosh clearly wasn’t, which increased the queen’s pleasure somewhat. The group reunited at the entrance to the tower. Most of the orcs that had tried fighting the abomination were dead. One was still alive, though mortally wounded. Sylvanas gave Alyna a pointed look. Alyna seemed like she was about to object, but her ears dropped slightly, and she nodded. She lifted the dying orc under his arms, and dragged him into the tower and out of Garrosh’s sight.

Garrosh growled, but Sylvanas realised Saurfang must have said something to the young orc at some point because he didn’t try to stop Alyna.

Saurfang looked up at the tower. “We’ll come up with you to assess the situation as best we can, and then leave you to your plan, Dark Lady.”

Sylvanas nodded. “Agreed.” The orcs would be no use to her up in the tower with axes verses frost wyrms. 

The old orc led the way up the winding stairs. When they emerged at the top, the scale of the assault became more obvious. The tower itself had been attacked, and they stepped over the slowly warming frozen bodies of three orc guards as they moved around the open viewing platform. The Valley of Honor looked like a warzone. Several abominations were still lumbering around, but the number of wyrms in the air gave Sylvanas cause for concern.

Alyna appeared just behind the queen, and she turned to regard her ranger. Subconsciously, she raised her hand and wiped a small blood smear away from the corner of the other woman’s mouth. She didn’t notice the curious look she received from Alyna in return before she self-consciously pulled up her black face mask.

Alyna must have heard the conversation on the ground because she said, “We’ll soon have another problem, High Overlord, so I suggest you do not go very far.”

Sylvanas was already firing a charged arrow at a nearby wyrm. She gave herself a satisfied smile when it exploded on impact, ripping off one of its wings. It plummeted to the ground, crushing a home that no doubt had civilians in it. It was unfortunate, but unavoidable. She waited for one of the orcs to object, but when none came, she turned to Alyna as Saurfang asked, “What do you know, dark ranger?”

Alyna regarded him coolly. “The same thing you do, High Overlord – that the Lich King deals in death. He does not need to send an army to invade our cities. His army is already here.”

Sylvanas swore, immediately understanding. The orcs glanced at each other, their look of confusion almost identical. As if on cue, low groans and moans could be heard below them, from the street. All four of them looked down.

The bodies they had passed earlier were beginning to twitch. Eyes opened to show a bright azure light shining from dead orbs. A few flailed and twisted where they lay, the bodies too mangled to get up. Most awkwardly climbed to their feet with various incoherent sounds.

“Spirits help us,” murmured Saurfang. He shook his head, and then raised his axe. “Come, Garrosh. Let us send our kin to the Ancestors as they deserve.” For once, Garrosh did not appear to relish the idea of battle. The orcs made their way to the stairs, leaving the two undead elves alone.

They wasted no time. Alyna started preparing spells and hurling them at passing wyrms. Sylvanas had a more finite resource in her arrows, but she made every shot count. When she was nearly out of arrows, she felt her quiver get heavier. She looked over her shoulder and could see Alyna was loading it with a sizable number of her own.

Their eyes locked, and Sylvanas felt entire conversations pass between them in that instant. She felt lighter, as a weight lifted slightly from her shoulders. This was what she had missed, all these years. A trusted companion who she knew would always have her back, whom she was in tune with both on and off the battlefield. They had a long way to go, particularly herself, she knew, but the foundations were there. She gave Alyna a brief nod of thanks, and they both returned to their task, the orcs below bellowing and grunting in their effort to clear the waves of undead slowly staggering in their direction.

When the skies were noticeably less populated with wyrms, Alyna drew the queen’s attention to what was going on below. She gestured at the awkwardly lumbering corpses arriving from the west.

“We’re going to have to deal with the necromancer raising the dead, or we’ll be overwhelmed eventually.”

Sylvanas surveyed the scene. The numbers had slowly been growing. “You sound sure there is only one at work here.”

Alyna nodded. “It takes a lot of energy to raise the dead, and if there were more they would have created a significant circle of power by now. They could raise dozens at a time with such a tool, and also control them directly.” She gestured at the rabble below. “These are not being raised so quickly. They appear to have direction to stop us, since we’ve been taking down the wyrms, but they are not under any tight control.” As added evidence to her argument, she pointed towards the east. “Look at that one.”

As they watched, the grievously injured corpse hobbled blindly down the road. It then suddenly collapsed and stopped moving, the blue light in its eyes disappearing. Just beside it, several other corpses lay crumpled. Together, they made a neat line across the road.

Sylvanas frowned, comprehending what Alyna was showing her. “They’re wandering out of the necromancer’s range of control.”

“Exactly. No necromancer would allow that to happen if they had full control of their creations.”

The queen gave her ranger a long, contemplative, look. “What are you thinking, Alyna?”

The two women locked eyes again. She could see her ranger thinking things through, making sure of what she was going to say before she voiced it.

“I don’t think this is a proper invasion. He would have sent more necromancers, for one, and just simply overwhelmed an unprepared city with its dead. He has no shortage of them to send. This …” she gestured at the city, “… is a test. He is gauging just how ready the Horde are to take him on, with the added benefit of striking fear into the hearts of those who will eventually step onto Northrend.” She lowered her eyes slightly. “There’s nothing quite like fighting your own fallen kin.”

Sylvanas wanted to scream in rage. Now it was said, she knew Alyna was correct. The Lich King was toying with them, and had got exactly what he wanted from it. For years the Horde had ignored her, and they were not prepared. They were now at a disadvantage. She tightened her grip on her bow in anger. He had made the first strike, but she would win the war. And she would now _have_ her war, she realised. Ironically, the Lich King had done that for her at least. Thrall would have to listen now.

“Time to at least remove one necromancer from his arsenal,” she angrily spat.

Alyna agreed. “I can’t sense exactly where he is from here, but as we get closer it should be easier. The amount of power he is using is lighting him up like a beacon.”

Sylvanas would have to trust Alyna could get them close enough to find the mage raising the dead. They made their way down the stairs and she briefed Saurfang of the new plan. He readily agreed, and they started hacking their way through the undead.

She realised Alyna was right with regards to the undead. They were aimless, and often did not even see them as a threat, only trying to attack once they themselves had been attacked. They existed solely to strike fear into mortal hearts.

They quickly reached the large gate that led from the Valley of Honor into The Drag. Orgrimmar had been cleverly built within a series of valleys, with gates cut through the rock to connect them with each other. The Drag linked the main areas known as the valleys of Honor, Wisdom and Strength, which in turn led to the Valley of Spirits. The Drag also provided access to the Cleft of Shadow, an area where the less savoury of orcish society had chosen to dwell.

As they emerged into The Drag, Sylvanas looked at Alyna. The ranger was frowning as she tried to get her bearings. She had only seen this section once, as they had ridden to the arena earlier in the day.

“He’s … close. But, above us.” Alyna looked up. The Drag was where all the merchants had set up their stores along the valley walls. Paths had been cut that criss-crossed up the dark-red rock walls, and more shops had been built on the platforms that had formed from wider paths. Everything felt very close and almost claustrophobic. Sylvanas scanned the buildings along with Alyna, looking for anything out of place. Most of them were showing signs of frost damage, and there was no shortage of blood splatter on the walls.

“There!” Alyna pointed north towards a watch tower at the top of The Drag. It was surprisingly undamaged, and she realised that was probably for a reason. “I can almost see the energy coming out of the top of the tower. He’s there.”

The group started jogging towards their target, but they quickly had to slow to a walk as more undead started appearing. Sylvanas figured the necromancer knew they were coming, as it felt like he was trying to surround himself with his creations. They were no real threat to the seasoned combatants though, and they were cut down. Slowly, but surely, they closed on the tower.

“I will crush his puny skull!” growled Garrosh as he entered the tower.

“Wait, Garrosh!” called Saurfang. “We should let the dark ranger go first.”

“WHAT?” The young orc turned, nostrils flaring. “A warrior’s place is at the front of battle! I will not cower behind an elf!”

“The necromancer can cast spells before you get close. Can your axes defend against that, young Hellscream?” Saurfang’s voice was surprisingly patient, and it grated on Sylvanas’ nerves. She did not tolerate such brashness amongst her own rangers and soldiers.

Garrosh snarled, tusks and teeth bared. “Can _she_?”

Wordlessly, Alyna bowed her head and cast a spell. A frosty barrier surrounded her. Sylvanas had to step away as she could feel it trying to freeze her own movements if she remained too close. They exchanged nods, and Alyna slowly made her way up the stairs. Garrosh followed, though quickly found he too couldn’t get too close to Alyna. Sylvanas brought up the rear, behind Saurfang. The banshee queen was silently laughing to herself. If Garrosh was meant to be Thrall’s protégé and champion, then he was nowhere near close to what Sylvanas had in Alyna.

They reached the top, and slowly moved around the outside of the enclosed hut that was on top of the tower. Alyna prepared a spell, and boldly moved into the doorway. Her frost barrier immediately flared to life as it was hit by a spell thrown at it by the necromancer. Alyna finished casting her own spell, and Sylvanas almost smiled as she heard the necromancer screaming. As Alyna walked forward and into the room, the others followed.

The floor and walls had sigils carved into them that had then been traced over with blood. Several corpses lay against the walls, the watch guards having been used to create the circle of magic the necromancer had used to raise the undead. It glowed an eerie blue on the floor, surrounding the male human on his knees as he screamed at whatever Alyna was doing to him.

Sylvanas arched an eyebrow. She could see … something … red wisps of energy … moving from the necromancer to Alyna, but she had no idea what it was. Alyna had not shared this particular spell with her when they had gone over her abilities.

When Alyna let go of the spell, the human collapsed, gasping for air. From the floor, he laughed, not sounding entirely sane. “The blood-princess is found! The Master is pleased! He knows. He sees ALL!” The blue circle started to fade with the lack of energy being directed into it.

Alyna’s white eyebrows furrowed in a frown and she looked at Sylvanas. They had not considered the Lich King didn’t know where Alyna was. Now, he did. What that meant for both of them would have to wait as Garrosh stepped forward and slashed his axe at the human’s neck, beheading him.

“You fool!” spat Sylvanas. “There was much we could have got from him!”

Garrosh picked up the head by the dark, matted hair, and shoved it towards the queen. “This creature is better off dead than alive and given the chance to do more damage.”

Saurfang sighed, but did not say anything about the act. Any admonishment would be done in private, it would seem.

The booming voice that had split the air at the start of the invasion, now did so again.

“THIS SMALL VICTORY WILL AVAIL YOU NOTHING! COME! COME TO NORTHREND. THE MASTER’S MINIONS ARE WAITING, AND THEY ARE HUNGRY …!”

“Let us go,” started Saurfang. “It appears this is all over. We should find the Warchief.”

The four descended the tower and started walking back to the arena. As they neared the gate, a familiar voice called out, “Dark Lady!”

Sylvanas turned to see a gore-splattered Kyala jogging towards her. She had a dozen Forsaken soldiers from _The Windrunner_ with her, all showing signs of battle. She nodded her approval. Her people had not sat idle on their ship and had come to the aid of their allies. It would go a long way to reassuring the Horde they could be relied upon.

Kyala and the soldiers saluted as they reached their queen. “Well done,” she told them. “Your Queen is proud of you this day.” She looked at Kyala. “We are reconvening at the arena with the Warchief. Follow us there, in case we come across more of the Lich King’s minions.”

As they passed through the gate, Sylvanas knew the likelihood of more battle was slim after the Scourge had retreated, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity for Thrall to see her people had helped to defend his city. They marched behind as the group of four weaved their way back to the arena. Thrall was waiting for them at the entrance, his own Kor’kron guard flanking him, though noticeably fewer in number. He did not hide his surprise at the contingent of Forsaken.

“Lady Sylvanas, it would appear the orcs of Orgrimmar owe you their gratitude. Thank you for coming to our aid,” intoned the warchief, formally.

For her part, Sylvanas gave him a small bow of her head in thanks, and in small deference to his position as warchief. “We came to the aid of allies, Warchief. And we will continue to do so as proud members of the Horde.” She hated these formalities, but she would play their game while she had to.

Garrosh had no sense for such things and pressed forward, throwing the head of the necromancer at Thrall’s feet. The warchief looked down at it impassively.

“Well, Warchief? What say you now? Will you send me to Northrend?”

They all watched as the warchief raised his eyes to Garrosh, anger burning in them. “Saurfang …”

The old orc stepped forward. “Yes, Warchief?”

“Marshal our forces. Contact our goblin shipwrights. The Horde prepares for war!”

Garrosh roared his delight as Saurfang saluted. “As you command, Warchief!” He immediately went inside the arena grounds to look for messengers to send to various places.

Sylvanas smiled slowly. “Excellent … most excellent.”

Thrall looked at her. “Do not get carried away, Sylvanas. We have a lot of planning to do, and you _will_ act as part of the Horde in this, and not go off by yourself.”

Sylvanas felt her rage flash through her body as the orc dared talk to her in such a way. She pushed it down, and ignored the gleeful look Garrosh was giving her. “Of course, Warchief,” she managed to say. “The Forsaken are yours to command.”

“Then let us plan for the end of evil.” The orcs entered the arena grounds.

Alyna moved to stand beside her queen. Quietly, she asked in Thalassian, “You intend to follow his orders, my Lady?”

Sylvanas stared after the retreating form of Thrall. “For as long as it suits our needs, yes.” She looked at Alyna. “We will talk more on it later. For now, we brief the Warchief on Northrend. Except for those things I told you not to mention. Understood?”

“Understood, my Queen.”

Sylvanas loved it when she called her that.


	16. Chapter 16

Alyna strode over to the map table in Sylvanas’ office on board _The Windrunner_. They had spent the past couple of days at the arena going over plans for the invasion of Northrend. She had done as she was instructed to, and she only told the warchief what her queen believed he should know. They were now at sea, having left Kalimdor behind just a few minutes ago. Their destination was Silvermoon, the capital city of her former people. They would need to be convinced to join the war, and Sylvanas had told the warchief she would get their commitment.

The warchief had decided a two-pronged attack was best. The Forsaken would lead the attack through the southeast of the continent, and Garrosh would lead an attack through the southwest. It had certainly come as a surprise that they were being trusted with an entire warfront, but Sylvanas had relished the idea, as Alyna knew she would. Alyna also found she was relieved the brown orc would be literally a continent away from her. She was quite sure he wanted to kill her. She smiled slightly. He could try.

A presence stepped close to her shoulder, her queen’s voice interrupting her thoughts. “Something has amused you.”

Alyna looked over her shoulder at the intense red eyes of her queen. A familiar urge nagged the back of her mind, and she sighed inwardly. She supposed it was about that time again. “I was contemplating the potential outcome of my next encounter with Garrosh Hellscream.”

A pale-yellow eyebrow raised slightly. “While I have no doubt you would prevail, I would urge caution with that one.” Disgust laced her words as she continued, “I cannot imagine what Thrall sees in the fool, but he somehow keeps his favour, even after challenging him.”

Alyna turned her body to face Sylvanas. She kept her voice light, though the impulse to tease rose within her. “I challenged you. Do I not hold your favour, my Lady?”

Red eyes narrowed slightly. “Our situation is hardly comparable to theirs. Garrosh challenged Thrall’s position for no reason other than he was told no. You …” She paused slightly, the words not easy for her, “… raised valid concerns. Albeit with the subtlety of a charging beast.” The narrowed eyes started to frown. “You’re squirming.”

The dark ranger closed her black eyes and sighed. “I’ll require your … aid. Soon. If you are still willing to assist. My Lady.”

Sylvanas’ lips quirked up slightly. She raised a gloved hand to gently stroke Alyna’s cheek, causing her to open her eyes. “I have a question for you first, now we finally have some privacy. If I do not object too strongly to the answer, then yes, I’ll bed you.”

Alyna quietly asked, “What do you wish to know, my Queen?” She despised herself right now for how she felt. Her body very much wanted to be taken to bed by Sylvanas, and if she was _very_ honest with herself, she had enjoyed their two liaisons. But she still didn’t trust Sylvanas. She also despised the fact she currently still _needed_ Sylvanas in such a way. She wondered if the queen would be interested in her sexually once Alyna’s uncontrolled urges stopped. She felt that time was close. Would she even want Sylvanas?

“What did you do to that necromancer?”

Alyna heard an edge in the queen’s voice. She realised Sylvanas was angry she had to even ask the question, but was trying to control it.

“I fed from him.” The ranger lowered her head slightly. “There are two ways I can take the sustenance I need from the blood of the living. Biting them is easy, though it is time consuming and … personal.” She sighed. She hated just how personal it really was. “I can also pull it directly out of them, as you saw, and I don’t need to touch them. It takes a lot more effort on my part, but it is faster. It is also excruciatingly painful for my victim. They tend to die from the shock of extraction before I finish if I don’t intervene.”

Sylvanas thought on the information for a few moments. “You get more from biting, but can get a quick fix from a distance if required.”

Alyna blinked at the succinctness of it. “I … yes. That is well put, my Lady. I prefer for my prey not to suffer, for my own reasons, but in that particular instance it seemed appropriate. He would have had magical protections for most conventional spells, but my vampiric nature is not something that is easily countered.”

The queen tilted her head, thinking. Alyna knew she was already contemplating how such an ability could be utilised in her favour. She resisted the urge to sigh. Sylvanas had already changed somewhat since their bargain, but it was clearly going to be a long road for both of them. She had to try and have patience. Pushing Sylvanas into anything would be disastrous.

The thumb across her cheek moved, gaining her attention. Sylvanas’ eyes had dilated slightly, and Alyna gave her a raised eyebrow. It would appear Alyna had given her a satisfactory answer. Her queen was aroused. The queen stepped forward to move her lips past Alyna’s cheek to her ear. As she spoke, her thigh also pressed between Alyna’s legs.

“You made me _very_ proud during the battle, Alyna. I enjoyed watching you embarrass the orc.” She pulled her head back so their eyes could meet. A gloved thumb brushed over Alyna’s lips, sending shivers down her spine. “I reward those who please me. Would you like your reward?”

 _Damn you, Sylvanas._ She knew exactly what to say to disarm her. One day, when she had more control over herself, Alyna promised she’d make sure the queen not just knew, but felt, she was bedding an equal. Not just another subject.

Unable to resist, Alyna gave her queen a slight nod. The thumb was replaced by a searing kiss. It was all the permission she needed to grab Sylvanas and pull herself onto the waiting thigh as their mouths pressed hungrily together. Her enthusiasm raised a husky chuckle in the queen.

She broke their kiss, her lips hovering over Alyna’s. “I’ve always enjoyed your eagerness.”

Alyna held the red gaze as her hands rose from where she had grabbed Sylvanas’ hips, to almost tenderly pull the queen’s hood down, making sure not to tug at her ears. She threaded her fingers into the pale-yellow hair. No one saw the Dark Lady without her head covered. Only Alyna ever got to see the queen like this. She seemed more vulnerable somehow. It just enticed her further.

She grasped the queen’s hair and smirked shamelessly, displaying her fangs. “I can think of better things for your mouth than talking.”

Sylvanas snarled, but Alyna knew it was not in anger. Their mouths closed the bare distance to resume the kiss as the queen’s strong hands deftly worked at removing the leathers and clothing that Alyna wore. She smiled as she felt her pants be tugged down, and then gasped when she was lifted into the air. Countless small clay pieces were swept off the table before Alyna was sat on it, her pants and boots tugged off in a violent tug.

The queen stood between her legs, and grasped Alyna’s throat with her still-gloved hand. She was naked, before a fully-clothed Sylvanas. She knew it was meant as a message, to prove she was the one in control and not Alyna, regardless of the taunt. As they stared at each other, she admitted to herself that was the truth of it. For now.

She found she didn’t really mind.

When Sylvanas started lowering herself to kneel on the floor, she bit her lip in anticipation. And when she felt the queen’s tongue on the sensitive flesh between her legs, she allowed herself to drop back onto the table with a deep groan.

She _definitely_ didn’t mind.

The rest of the pieces adorning the map did not remain on the table for much longer.

* * *

 

_Eight days later ..._

The Banshee Queen sat tall in her saddle as she guided her undead steed through the streets of Silvermoon. Alyna was to her right, and rode slightly behind her as was befitting her station, with two royal dreadguards behind them. They had been met at the harbour, and were now being escorted by half a dozen sin’dorei guards riding brightly coloured two-legged hawkstriders. The large birds had squawked and fidgeted the entire way, the undead nature of the four Forsaken and their mounts unsettling them deeply.

Everyone in the streets stopped to stare at the entourage as they passed. Forsaken citizens riding through the city was not the oddest of occurrences anymore, but the former ranger-general making an appearance was a rare sight for the sin’dorei. When someone finally recognised Alyna under her hood and mask, the small smattering of onlookers started to become a crowd.

As they neared their destination of Sunfury Spire, a large square opened up before them. In the middle, a sizeable monument rose into the sky from a fountain. Sylvanas cursed silently and looked over at Alyna. She had forgotten the monument existed, and realised Alyna had not been warned as a result.

It had certainly gained the ranger’s attention, and her eyes were glued to it to such an extent she had not noticed her mount had stopped walking. Sylvanas pulled back on her own reins, watching Alyna as she took in the monument.

The large statue was of them. Their once-living likenesses stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder, holding hands. Alyna’s statue held Felo’alann, while Sylvanas’ mirror had her old bow. Their affection for each other had been captured perfectly by the sculptor. Even their betrothal rings had been carved out on their fingers as a cruel reminder that the two lovers had been slain in defence of their nation before they could marry.

Sylvanas felt something stir inside her, before she quashed it. The monument was one of the reasons why she didn’t visit the city often, despite her lingering fondness for it and her former people. Too many memories remained that she did not want to have to deal with. The monument had been built before the people had known of their true fates. The official story given by Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron stated that the Ranger-General and Ranger-Captain had perished during the defence of Quel’Thalas, having fought valiantly against the undead Scourge. There had been no funeral as their bodies had been burnt to ashes in the fires that had devastated most of the capital and the Isles of Quel’Danas after the attack had finally ended. Or so the people believed.

Idlily, Sylvanas wondered if the monument would have even been built if they had known of the true fate of their supposed heroes. The Banshee Queen, and the Blood-Princess. Lofty titles, but what they represented was horrific. It sounded insane even to her own ears. She looked at the statue. It had partly disgusted her the first time she saw it, because she knew how hypocritical it really was. Their love had divided the quel’dorei, and yet here they immortalised it. They had been so desperate for heroes in the aftermath of the invasion, they had turned to a pair of dead women whose relationship they had despised.

The joke was on them. Not even death had managed to keep them apart.

Sylvanas turned to look at Alyna, to find a pair of deep black eyes looking back at her. Many dozens of eyes had watched the pair as they took in the monument. The women had kept their expressions carefully neutral, and Sylvanas was quietly proud of Alyna’s lack of visible reaction. She knew the woman was raging inside.

Alyna gave her the barest of nods, and Sylvanas knew she was ready to continue.

As they rounded the monument, Sylvanas raised an eyebrow at a single bouquet of fresh flowers that had been recently laid onto the plinth. She briefly wondered who would leave such an offering, before the reason for why she was here began to take over her thoughts.

* * *

 

Alyna stood near Sylvanas as they waited for the arrival of Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron. The grand hall where the rulers of Silvermoon met their visitors was not as grand as Alyna remembered it, and as she looked around at the red and gold drapes of the blood elves, she tried to put her anger at the monument behind her. She didn’t know if Sylvanas had been testing her by not warning her, but even if she had been told she realised her reaction would not have diminished. She knew it was not a monument to their love or sacrifice. It was their guilt that drove the construction of such a thing. And now how would they feel knowing her own ultimate fate? She knew her presence had already caused quite a stir outside.

She could hear several pairs of boots approaching, and she turned her head to look past the grand chair the former King had utilised before his death at the Sunwell. When Lor’themar entered, he was looking directly at Sylvanas, perhaps just assuming Alyna was one of her usual rangers. Two other male elves were with him, and Alyna knew them both. Thankfully, Sylvanas had warned her of their likely presence. Grand Magister Rommath, her grandfather’s successor, was very clearly not happy to see Sylvanas and was not ashamed to show his disgust. The other, was Sylvanas’ successor, Ranger-General Halduron Brightwing.

“What brings you to Silvermoon, Sylvanas?” opened Lor’themar. Alyna found his deliberate omission of any of her queen’s titles to be interesting.

As Sylvanas spoke, the grating tones of her undead voice echoed through the hall. “I have just returned from Orgrimmar.” She paused for effect. “Arthas has dared to strike at the heart of the Horde.” She let the words sink in, but there was no reaction from the regent lord. “The attack was successfully repelled,” she continued. “But Arthas is only toying with us – we must bring the war to him. Warchief Thrall at last sees what we have long known. The Horde prepares for war. And the sin’dorei, Lor’themar, constitute a portion of the Horde.”

The queen’s words hung in the air. Still, Lor’themar did not speak. Sylvanas’ voice now had a notable edge to it. “Lor’themar. We go to destroy Arthas – once and for all!”

Slowly, Lor’themar shook his head. “I appreciate that you and Warchief Thrall wish us to—”

“Alyna?”

Lor’themar blinked and turned to Halduron who had blurted out her name. The ranger-general was staring at her in shock. As both men followed his stare to her, she felt three pairs of eyes examining her closely.

The regent lord couldn’t hide this particular reaction, and his jaw dropped slightly. “You’re ali—” he caught himself before finishing the word, his eyes catching the finer details of what he could see of her skin, and her eyes. He gasped. “By the Sunwell! What has she done to you?”

Alyna looked at Sylvanas. She didn’t want to offer any response without her queen’s permission, considering they were here officially and not for an informal catch up about her last few years. The queen was impatiently glaring at the regent lord.

“Alyna was recently liberated from the Scourge, Lor’themar. I have offered her a home, seeing as we both know how _welcome_ she would be here.”

The three living elves were clearly shocked, and very uncomfortable. Alyna had been told of the relationship the Forsaken currently had with the sin’dorei. While Sylvanas offered troops to keep the remaining Scourge at bay in the south of Quel’Thalas, they were treated with disdain and distrust wherever they went. The undead elves were not treated as the heroes they were for dying for their people, but with revulsion and hatred.

For Alyna’s part, the last time Lor’themar and Halduron had seen her, she had saved their lives at the risk of her own. Her act to save them, had condemned her to Arthas. It appeared they were not aware of that fact.

Halduron mumbled, “We thought you were … truly dead.”

Alyna’s eyes bored right into him. She and Halduron had not got along the last years of her life, and she was sure he had wished her ill will many times. She wanted to reply to him, but she could feel the impatience of her Dark Lady radiating, so she reined in her tongue.

Sylvanas replied for her. “Did thinking that alleviate your guilt at how you treated her before she saved your life, Halduron? You believe what you want to because none of you can handle the truth of what too many sacrificed so you can now stand here and refuse to make the same sacrifice.”

Lor’themar whirled on Sylvanas, fury crossing his features. “How dare you! We have just fought a civil war! The Magister’s Terrace has been all but destroyed, and we’re still collecting the dead from Quel’Danas. My people are exhausted. We cannot go to Northrend, Sylvanas, because we have nothing to give.”

Alyna frowned very slightly. She knew there had been heavy fighting on Quel’Danas very recently. Sylvanas had told her the Legion had turned some of the more power-hungry elves into creatures that were more demon than elf. All elves had been connected to the Sunwell at some level, and when Arthas destroyed it they had suffered from its absence terribly. The Legion had offered fel energy as a solution, and many had accepted. They had taken over Quel’Danas and tried to summon one of the Legion’s lords to trigger another invasion of Azeroth. It had been stopped, and by some miracle Alyna didn’t understand, the Sunwell had been reborn in a pure form. It had clearly taken its toll of the beleaguered sin’dorei though.

Sylvanas didn’t care.

“This is not a request, Lor'themar,” she said. Her eyes flashed red in anger. “You will send troops. They will accompany the Forsaken.” She sneered at him. “You have clearly forgotten who is responsible for the state Quel’Thalas is in, _and_ you have forgotten who is responsible for making sure you still have any control over most of it.”

Lor’themar shook his head in surprise. “Sylvanas, don’t do this.”

She ignored him, and kept going. “I do not tolerate cowardice. Arthas will not be content to ignore you while you let others die for your security, _again_. If you do not stand with the Forsaken, you stand against them. And those who stand against us do not stand for long. If you do not aid us in Northrend, I will recall my troops currently holding back the Scourge in Quel’Thalas and leave you to it.”

Rommath made a sound of disgust. Halduron looked ill. Alyna understood the threat as well. If Sylvanas withdrew the Forsaken, southern Quel’Thalas would fall to the Scourge. The sin’dorei did not have enough people to push the Scourge back.

“You’re blackmailing us,” Lor’themar stated flatly.

“Simple logistics, Lor’themar. If you do not provide the troops we need, I will have to find them elsewhere.”

“Send my exhausted people to find more death in Northrend, or risk losing Quel’Thalas to the Scourge once again.” He laughed hollowly. “There is no choice here, Sylvanas.”

“I will expect your forces at the Undercity in three weeks, Lor’themar,” she replied. “I will not be disappointed in this.”

“Yes, my Lady,” came the empty reply.

Sylvanas turned to leave, and Alyna moved to follow.

“How can you follow her?” came the desperate, and angry, cry. Both women turned to see Rommath looking at Alyna. “Can’t you see what she has become? She has no love for her people anymore if she would force us to march to our deaths when we’re not ready!”

Alyna glanced at Sylvanas, who gave her a slight nod. She turned to Rommath, and pulled down her mask to show her fangs. All three men showed their surprise.

“Can’t _you_ see what _Arthas_ made us into? Do you _care_ , or have you removed yourself so far from reality because you cannot cope with the truth, _Grand Magister_?” Alyna took a step forward and allowed her anger to show in her voice. “You have no idea what we have suffered because of that _monster_ , and you have the nerve to stand here in your cosy bright city and refuse us the vengeance we deserve!” She slowly moved closer to Rommath, her rage building. “You think you know sacrifice? You think you know suffering?” She stopped, barely a half a meter from the shrinking grand magister. “You … have … _no_ … idea.”

The three men were transfixed. She could hear their living hearts pounding in their chests, calling to her to feed and sate her unending hunger. She closed her eyes for a moment and forcefully calmed herself. When she opened her eyes, she shook her head slowly, her voice full of the pain she had endured. “If you did … you would not hesitate to come to Northrend. No matter the cost, Arthas _must_ be stopped.”

She turned and strode back to stand beside her queen. She felt Sylvanas looking at her, but she couldn’t make eye contact with her at that moment. Thankfully, the queen chose not to query it. Without looking back at the three most powerful men in Quel’Thalas, the queen left the hall, with Alyna following.

They were met outside by a pair of sin’dorei guards, and they were led through the Spire to an atrium. Several rooms branched off it, and each held a large orb in the centre. Alyna could feel the magic coursing through them, and she instantly recognised them for what they were; teleportation orbs. She recalled Sylvanas mentioning there was one in the ruins above Undercity that allowed for instant transportation between the two cities that would otherwise take weeks of travel through Scourge lands. The twin for that orb must be in one of the rooms, she realised. They would be home very soon.

As she followed Sylvanas towards one of them, she heard several gasps. She glanced over her shoulder to see what it was about, and then stopped. Coming out of another room, was her father, Magister Athanos Salonar, and older sister, Lylias, also a magister. They were staring at her open-mouthed.

“Alyna?” came the impatient voice of her queen. She felt Sylvanas at her shoulder, and turned to look at her queen. Her face was hard as she realised why her ranger had not followed her. She looked down at Alyna and said matter-of-factly, “I’ll wait for you inside. Be quick.”

She nodded, and turned to regard her family members.

Her father managed to recover his voice first. “We … were told you were dead.”

“I am,” returned Alyna. The sound of her grating, undead voice made Lylias wince and look away.

“Where have you been, Alyna?”

“Enslaved to the Scourge. Until very recently.” She examined her father’s face for any reaction, but his centuries of politicking had made him very good at hiding his emotions. What he did allow himself to show, was confusion.

Athanos shook his head, “Why didn’t you look for us?”

Alyna narrowed her eyes at her father. “So you could welcome me back into the family with loving arms? You _shunned_ me in life, Father. I was never good enough for you, and you never accepted who I was then. Why would I ever expect you, or my precious, perfect, sister, to accept what I am now?”

The words hit both of them like physical blows, and they recoiled.

Lylias appeared quite content to let her domineering father do the talking. “So you run back to _her_? That’s it? She’s better for you than your own family?”

Alyna sneered at her blood relations. “She _is_ my family.” She gave them a bitter laugh. “You still think everything is about you, don’t you? Your precious reputation and legacy. My choice to join the Forsaken has _nothing_ to do with you or your wishes. Where else could I have gone?”

Having had enough of the pair, Alyna turned to join her queen by the teleportation orb, but then stopped and half-turned back to her father.

“Whatever it means to you, because I genuinely believe it doesn’t mean a thing to your selfish heart, the girl that was your daughter is gone. Forget I exist. I have already forgot that you do.”

Alyna finally entered the room to join her queen, leaving her stunned relations behind.

* * *

 

They didn’t speak until they reached Sylvanas’ office. As Sylvanas moved to stand behind her desk, she realised she didn’t really know what to say. The audience with Lor’themar had gone mostly as she thought it would, though Alyna’s words to them at the end had been a nice surprise for the cause. The chance meeting with Alyna’s family, had been unexpected. The last she knew, they spent all their time in Dalaran.

She frowned at the sight of her desk as she looked down. Or rather, the lack of sight of it. She enjoyed getting away from the city occasionally, but she abhorred the paperwork that waited for her inevitable return. She looked up at Alyna.

“Are you okay?”

Black eyes widened in surprised at the question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your family …” she left the sentence unfinished, unsure how to. Thankfully, Alyna had no such difficulty.

“… abandoned me long before Arthas came.”

“Not all of them. You were close to Lirea and Calduros. Are you not curious?”

Alyna tilted her head slightly in thought. “Honestly? No. I used to wonder about them years ago, but it did nothing but hurt. I have been otherwise occupied since gaining my freedom.”

Sylvanas nodded slowly. She understood perfectly. She had not looked for her sister Vereesa when she had gained her own freedom. She had been too consumed with trying to come to terms with her situation. By the time it had crossed her mind, it hadn’t seemed important anymore. Living family was for the living.

“Will you be sending me to Northrend, my Lady?”

Sylvanas brought her mind back to the present. She chuckled lightly. “You’re the one who knows what we’re in for. Of course I am.”

Curiously, Alyna looked relieved. “Does that mean I will be attached to a company?”

The question answered her curiosity. Alyna wanted to finalise her integration into the dark rangers. She had made the decision as to the woman’s status on the voyage to Silvermoon, but had not managed to discuss it yet. She saw no harm in doing so now.

“I will not attach you to a company, because you will be fully joining one.” Black eyes twinkled with excitement. “I have promoted one of Areiel’s lieutenants to take the vacancy Talnia created. I am going to install you as the replacement for that lieutenant.” As she spoke, she reached into a drawer in her desk to retrieve a small metal disk. She moved to place it on the desk, only to realise there was no space. She eventually placed it on top of one of the piles of paperwork.

“Me?” started Alyna in surprise. “Not … Kyala? Or someone else?”

Sylvanas waved away the suggestion. “Kyala is exactly where I need her. You are more than qualified to be an officer, and more importantly, I trust your instincts as one. What I can’t have is an existing officer ignoring your invaluable insight because of something petty like rank and personal issues.”

In that explanation, Sylvanas had told her new lieutenant two vital things. Firstly, that she trusted Alyna. And she really did. The past couple of weeks of travel with her had given her insights she wished she had taken the time to get when she had first arrived on her doorstep. She had also told Alyna that not all her rangers were going to be happy at Alyna’s presence at all, whether she was an officer or not. She doubted that was going to be news to her, but she wanted to forewarn her. She owed her that much after her less than rule-book training.

Alyna regarded the disk for a few more moments before she took it, and pocketed it. “Thank you, my Lady.”

“You’re welcome.” Sylvanas nodded over towards her Northrend map table. “Your first task is to update the table here while I send for your company to report to Undercity. We’ll then sit down with Areiel and the Grand Executer and figure out the finer details of the invasion. I want to be setting sail in three weeks.”

“Understood, my Queen.”

Sylvanas watched as Alyna started her work at the map table. While she was looking forward to finally going after Arthas, she realised she felt immeasurably happier knowing it was going to be with Alyna at her side. She then sighed, and sat down to start going through her paperwork.

* * *

 

 **A/N –** The meeting with Lor’themar happens in the short story “Lor’themar Theron: In the Shadow of the Sun” by Sarah Pine. It is one of the official Blizzard short stories written for notable characters, and it is available via worldofwarcraft.com . While I did not use all parts relating to the meeting, I saw no justification in rewording certain things as all I would be doing is making them worse. There are direct quotes, and indirect ones, and I take no credit in them. I just wanted to see how things would be different due to Alyna’s presence and their history together. Anyway, it’s a great story and helps to flesh out a lesser known leader of the Horde, so I highly recommend you go read it.


	17. Chapter 17

The tall white cliffs of southeast Northrend came into view while they were still miles away. For the first time she could remember since dying, Sylvanas felt true excitement pulse through her.

_Arthas, I’m coming for you._

She gazed at the imposing cliffs with a small smile. She knew the ominous view was part of the Howling Fjord. The prow of the ship rose and fell as it was steered towards the northeast, the other three ships in her fleet following their example. Alyna had assured her that while the cliffs dominated the entire south-eastern province of Northrend, there was a decent sized area on the eastern shore that would be an ideal landing zone. Sylvanas had wanted to sail through the fjords and get as far inland as she could, but Alyna had warned against such a tactic. She would be showing her why once they made landfall.

The queen turned her head slightly to address Kyala at her shoulder. “Do you understand your orders?

Kyala nodded once. “Yes, Dark Lady.”

Sylvanas felt her smile wane as she looked back at the cliffs. “I realise the task will not be simple, as she is not your lieutenant. But it is vital that Alyna remains fed. That will be considerably more difficult here than it is at home.”

“Would it not be easier to move me into her unit, my Lady? I could personally attend to her needs if that were the case.”

The words were innocent, but Sylvanas felt a flash of jealousy move through her. She had to remind herself they were talking about Alyna’s need to feed, and nothing more. Though, why she was jealous in the first place confused her. Aloud, she said, “I will not interfere with Areiel’s running of her company.” She turned back to Kyala, her red eyes flashing. “Unless I have to. If she neglects Alyna’s need, and does not respond to your counsel, you are to inform me immediately.”

Kyala bowed her head lightly to acknowledge the order. “Of course, my Lady.”

Sylvanas cast her gaze over the decks of her flagship. She could see Areiel on the quarterdeck talking to one of her rangers. She did not expect Areiel to intentionally starve Alyna, but Sylvanas had one reason to doubt her; she was a known friend of Talnia’s. While the woman had publicly disavowed the actions of the disgraced ranger-captain, it was difficult to know her private feelings on the matter.

Areiel must have felt the queen’s gaze, because she looked up and gave the queen a bow of her head that was quickly matched by the ranger.

Sylvanas did not acknowledge her. Instead, she asked her agent, “Where is Alyna?”

“I believe she is in your quarters, my Lady,” came the neutral reply. Kyala gave her queen a carefully guarded look. “Do you wish me to summon her?”

Sylvanas gave her a brief nod. “Yes, but not here. I will be in the hold.”

Kyala bowed her head in respect, and moved gracefully away to perform her task.

After waiting a few moments, Sylvanas stepped away from the forecastle and into her ship, winding down through stairways into the hold. She stopped at the entrance to one section that held a dozen large barrels firmly fastened to the deck with rope. Two apothecaries were in the middle of a discussion, but they stopped to bow as she appeared. Another appeared at her side, and she realised it was Grand Apothecary Putress.

“Ahh! Dark Lady! It is always an honour to be in your presence. How can we assist?” He almost purred in his eagerness.

She turned her red gaze to his glowing empty eye sockets, knowing full well he could see perfectly. “Is the plague secure?”

“Yes! Yes, of course, my Lady. Secure and stable. Though the sooner we move the barrels off the ship, the better. I need solid ground to continue my experiments.”

She gave him a nod. “It will take a few days for the scouts to report back once we make landfall, but we will find a suitable place for your laboratory. I don’t want anyone finding it.” She gave him a stern glare. “Until then, Putress, no more accidents.”

He bowed deeply. “Understood, Dark Lady.”

She turned to continue walking down the hold, to find Alyna waiting silently for her in the corridor. She nodded her approval at the woman’s rapid obedience, and walked deeper into the hold. Without needing to be told, Alyna followed. Dim lanterns flickered and swayed with the motion of the ship as they lit up various pieces of equipment and weaponry. However, most of the sections were full of heavily armoured Forsaken soldiers. The concentration of undead in the hold made the air thick and heavy with the scent of decay, but both women were unaffected by it.

Near the back of the hold, Sylvanas stopped at an open section that was acting as a stable for all of the skeletal horses the rangers and officers would use. They stood rigidly in their own armour, in various states of decay. Unlike her people, these animals were not dead. Not exactly. Animals that contracted the plague did not die and rise again like people. They just slowly decayed into undeath. Sylvanas led Alyna to a particularly intact animal, before stopping to turn to her ranger-lieutenant.

“Before we left for Orgrimmar, I decided to prepare a gift for you.” She raised her eyes to Alyna’s. “I wanted to show my gratitude to you for choosing to stay with … us.” Ignoring the fact she had almost said ‘me’, Sylvanas gestured at the black mount before her, and waited.

Alyna looked at it. Her eyes widened, and she looked back at Sylvanas, who gave her a small nod. Alyna stepped towards the creature and held out her hand. In an act of affection Sylvanas had thought the creatures were unable to feel, it reached forward with its partially-decayed muzzle, and pushed into Alyna’s hand. Alyna raised her other hand and slowly placed it on top of its black nose. She slowly trailed her palm up to its forehead to wrap her fingers around the protruding horn. The top of the horn had snapped, but Sylvanas had made sure it looked whole by having a vicious black metal tip fashioned for it.

Alyna didn’t look at her as she quietly said, “You gave her the plague.”

“She would not accept an undead rider. If you are to ride Sable again, I had to.” Truly, she had not wanted to take such an action. Alyna had loved the steed fiercely in life, and she had wanted to preserve something of that for some sentimental reason she had felt more than thought. She had been the one to contaminate Sable’s feed, and she had been there as the quel’dorei steed had screamed in agony until its nerve endings had finally dulled enough to not feel the rest of the horrific process that would alter it forever. She felt she owed it to the once graceful creature to be there. She hoped it would be an adequate gift to Alyna in undeath.

Sable whinnied as Alyna patted her neck and rubbed her muzzle as they stood amongst the rest of the completely still and silent mounts. The queen raised an eyebrow slightly at how typical it was that Sable would stand out, just as Alyna did. Sylvanas found herself smiling slightly as the two re-bonded.

Eventually, Alyna raised her black eyes to Sylvanas. “Thank you. She is a thoughtful gift.” The mask Alyna wore meant she couldn’t tell if the woman was smiling, but her words sounded like she was. The queen felt good.

“You are welc—” Sylvanas stopped as her ears picked up a muffled sound that could only be described as a ‘whoompf’. She could see Alyna had also heard it. Both women tilted their heads and looked around as their ears tried to pick up the sounds of the ship.

It was Sylvanas who realised it was a sound her ship had not made. She grabbed Alyna and pulled her down to the deck as she yelled, “Get down!”

Somewhere above them, the sound of wood explosively shattering tore through the ship, quickly followed by screams and shouts. When it became clear the cannon ball had missed their position, Sylvanas scrambled to her feet and ran down the hold. She took the stairs in twos and threes as she climbed up to the main deck of her ship. She arrived to a scene of controlled chaos as her ship’s captain barked orders for their own cannon to be primed from her position on the poop deck.

Sylvanas looked around. Her eyes flashed angrily as she saw the five Alliance ships bearing down on their position, flying the banners of the Alliance North Fleet. They were barely visible through a mist that had seemingly appeared from nowhere, which would explain why she had not been told of their presence. Only one was in firing range, and currently only by the single cannon in its bow.

“Come about!” yelled Dread-Captain Harker. She waved at her first mate. “Broadside to bare!”

“Belay that order!” countered Sylvanas, her captain finally noticing her. She ran over to her queen as Sylvanas moved up to the quarterdeck.

“My Lady! If we can bring our cannon round first, we can take out their lead ship.”

Sylvanas gestured at the other three ships in her own fleet. “Then we will have to deal with the other four Alliance vessels before our own have a chance to sail into position. I am not willing to risk the plague barrels, Dread-Captain.”

Harker looked down at her feet as if she could see through the decks into the hold. She immediately understood and looked up at her queen just as the lead Alliance ship fired again. This time, Sylvanas could see the cannon ball sail through the air. They were closer now, and as the _Windrunner_ had not turned to face them, it smashed halfway up the stern, causing the ship to shudder.

Sylvanas looked down at the female Forsaken captain. “Bring us behind the _Oblivion_. The others can engage. Be ready to peel off if we need to.”

“Yes, my Queen!” Harker then started shouting orders again. Additional sails were immediately unfurled on each mast and the ship groaned with the added strain. Beneath her feet, Sylvanas could feel the ship lurch with the added speed as she climbed the steps to the poop deck to survey the area of battle from the high vantage point. She realised Alyna was right behind her.

“My Lady, we need to stay out of the mist,” she said quietly.

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes at the seemingly obvious advice. “I have no intention of losing sight of the Alliance, or of my own ships.”

Alyna shook her head. “The mist is not natural, and it is moving closer to us. We must, at all costs, stay away from it.”

As Sylvanas looked at the sea, she could finally see that Alyna was telling the truth. The mist was visibly rolling over the top of it and coming closer far faster than any natural mist on a breeze. She called down to Harker and made sure the captain understood that avoiding the mist was the higher priority.

She turned back to Alyna. “Explain,” she ordered.

Alyna frowned slightly. “I’m not sure I can, my Lady. All the knowledge the Scourge had about this phenomenon came from the gossip and rumours that local inhabitants have.” She gestured at the mist. “The mist hides a danger. Whenever it appears, strange ships come out of the sea filled with tall humanoids covered in seaweed, barnacles and green scales. They raid the fishing communities that inhabit the low shorelines, and disappear back into nothing.” She paused, before adding, “They are called the Kvaldir.”

Both women frowned as a cacophony of cannon fire suddenly thundered through the air. It was distant, and muffled, and it soon became apparent that none of their ships had been hit. Alyna then pointed. “There, my Lady. The rear Alliance ship … it is firing into the mist.”

Sylvanas turned and tugged at a very long looking-glass that had been attached to a bracket on the rail. She held it to her eye and adjusted the lens to focus on the rearward ship. Alyna, again, was right. She could see the Alliance sailors focused on something other than the Forsaken. She moved the looking-glass around and paused. She thought she could see something in the mist that looked like another ship. She only caught glimpses, but it was not a configuration she recognised.

Another volley of cannon fire boomed through the air. This time, Forsaken ships were hit. She lowered the looking-glass and glared at the Alliance. They either hadn’t noticed that their rear guard was under attack, or they didn’t care and were more intent on killing her instead. _So be it_ , she thought. They would pay for their folly.

The _Queen's Reprisal_ , the _Dark Defiance_ and the _Oblivion_ all returned fire. The ships rocked with the force of so many cannons firing at once. As the battle raged, she let her sailors do their work, not interfering unless she absolutely felt she had to. Whatever had happened to the Alliance’s rear guard had meant the battle had been an even four against four. The reality was her own ship could not fire due to their deliberate positioning, and the Alliance were having difficulty keeping more than two ships in firing range at any one time. This was down to her fleet’s clever manoeuvring, and the Alliance finally realising the mist was also a threat. She felt pride in how they managed to continue retreating from the mist, while still managing to return fire and keep the Alliance from getting close enough to try and board. She was especially pleased when the lead Alliance ship lost two of its masts within a minute of each other. It fell back, unable to maintain the chase as others in the fleet overtook it. A few minutes later, it was enveloped by the chasing mist.

It was three against four. And the mist was no longer pursuing the battling ships.

“My Queen,” started Alyna. She gestured to their left as they passed the edge of a fjord. “That is where we can make landfall.”

Sylvanas turned, and smiled. There were still tall cliffs they would have to navigate, but before them was a large piece of flat land with a viable beach. There were some jagged rocks just offshore, but nothing they could not navigate with a bit of focus. The smile was short-lived as she looked back at the Alliance vessels. “We cannot make landfall with them chasing us.”

More cannon fired, and the main mast of the _Queen's Reprisal_ shattered near the base and collapsed forward to tangle with the foremast. Similarly, the lead Alliance ship also lost a pair of masts, and had a large hole gouged out of its bow near the waterline. Cheers erupted from her sailors as the two other Alliance ships struck some of their sails, pulling them in and tying them off so the wind would no longer catch them.

“It would appear the Alliance have decided to stop giving chase,” noted Alyna.

“It’s the first smart thing they’ve done today,” the queen replied. She moved to within earshot of the dread-captain who was at the ship’s wheel. “Dread-Captain Harker, prepare the fleet to make landfall.”

The dread-captain was focused on the _Queen’s Reprisal_ before she turned to Sylvanas. “Yes, Dark Lady. I fear the _Queen’s Reprisal_ will not be able to steer around the rocks though.”

Sylvanas looked at the de-masted ship. “Why not?”

“Her sails, my Lady. They cannot strike them as they’re tangled, and they’re still catching the wind. Unless she slows, she won’t be able to avoid them.” She pointed at the activity on the ship. Sailors were trying to climb the masts. “They’re trying to cut them, but that means they won’t be able to turn about and slow.”

“We cannot help them,” came her dispassionate reply. “Prepare the rest of the fleet for landfall.”

“Yes, my Lady,” came the immediate reply. The captain moved away to follow her orders.

Sylvanas moved to stand next to Alyna at the back of the poop deck to keep out of the way. As they slowed and began to move around the rocks, she watched as the sailors on the _Queen’s Reprisal_ battled their ship. Interestingly enough, the Alliance vessel was having a similar issue further down the coast. It had been left alone as the remaining two had retreated, unable to go with them but unable to stop hurtling towards the shore.

In an intriguing move, the dread-captain of the _Queen’s Reprisal_ dropped the forward portside anchor. She could hear the rapid rattling of the chain as it clattered down to the seabed. Being near shore, it did not have far to go, and once the anchor dug in, the bow slowed. The stern, however, began to swing around and the ship leant violently into the turn. She saw a few sailors clinging onto the masts desperately, one falling into the sea. Cannons slid across the decks, some going overboard and crashing into the sea, along with sailors and other equipment. As the stern swung round, she could hear another anchor being released. The sound of creaking, bending, and snapping wood echoed off the cliffs.

It was not enough. The ship had slowed, but too late. Two very loud explosions heralded the moment the anchor chains tore away from their housings with the huge force that had been placed on them. Sideways on, the _Queen’s Reprisal_ slammed into a tall rocky shard. By some miracle, she then rested there with a deep groan.

Alyna was the first to speak. “Interesting move. The dread-captain may have just saved the ship from being split in two. That looks … salvageable.”

“Indeed,” she agreed. “Let us hope the plague canisters she is carrying have not been breached.”

Alarm sounded in Alyna’s voice. “They’re carrying the plague too?”

Sylvanas looked at her ranger-lieutenant. “All the ships are. We just have the vast majority of it in our barrels. The rest have smaller canisters.”

Anything Alyna would have said was interrupted by the Alliance ship crashing into its own rocky outcrop. Sylvanas watched with satisfaction as their captain had not been as enterprising as her own. The Alliance ship was sinking, and the crew abandoning ship in desperation. Small explosions could be heard that Sylvanas figured was the gunpowder on board being set off as lanterns and furnaces were disturbed by the crash.

“It appears there will be survivors,” Alyna observed.

Sylvanas smiled slightly. “Good. You need to feed and Putress needs test subjects. They’ll do nicely.” Convenient and practical. Everything was falling into place.

* * *

_24 hours later …_

“SEVERE STOMACH PAIN? We are the Royal Apothecary Society! Inducing belly aches is not part of our job description!”

Kyala chuckled at the aggrieved cry of a senior apothecary. “Well, it seems their experiments are going well.”

Alyna rolled her eyes as the two women entered the only building the Forsaken had managed to erect so far. “I’m just glad they can’t use the plague until we find somewhere for their laboratory. Not if all their experiments are so … successful.”

“Ha! I’m with you on that one. The Society has a high casualty rate.”

A third female voice joined their conversation. “They give their lives gladly, Kyala. As I know you both may, one day.”

The two rangers turned to bow slightly at their queen. “We do as required, Dark Lady,” replied Kyala.

The queen acknowledged them with a nod before she looked at Alyna. “Is the lift ready?”

Alyna gave her queen a nod of her own. “Yes, my Lady. I have come to report that we had enough rope. We can now use the lift to take troops and supplies to the top of the cliff.”

“Excellent,” said Sylvanas. She looked as if she were about to add more, but a cry from outside interrupted her.

“Archers at the ready! Hold your fire!” All three women looked to the door.

“That’s High Executor Anselm,” murmured Kyala.

The high executor’s voice was heard again. “What fool dares to enter her Majesty’s dominion unannounced?”

The rangers moved aside as Sylvanas passed between them to stand in the doorway. The three women looked out towards the gates of the fortified camp. Anselm was sat on a skeletal horse. Before him stood a dozen soldiers, and archers had their bows raised from their various positions around the camp. Some were rangers.

They all faced what appeared to be a male blood elf, though by the colour of his skin he was clearly undead. Behind him stood four enormous humanoids. Easily as tall as a tauren, they appeared to be very large, very muscled, male humans. They wore furs, appeared to prefer their hair long, and carried very large axes.

The elf at the front wore dark orange and brown caster robes, though his chest was bare. His eyes were black, his hair was long and dark grey, and he wore a dark mask covering the lower half of his face that bore embroidered grey fangs. A faint glow was visible from several dull-orange crystals embedded into his clothing.

Alyna recognised him immediately, and found herself inhaling a sharp breath in surprise as he spoke. It gained her a glance from her queen.

“Ah, but it is _you_ who intrudes on our master’s territory. He could wipe you out in an instant for that transgression alone! Arthas does not have much love or patience for his escaped slaves.” The elf cackled. “But … he has learned of your victory over Stormwind’s North Fleet and thinks you have potential. Potential to see reason and abandon Sylvanas’ childish rebellion.”

The queen moved forward and Alyna immediately grabbed her upper arm to pull her back. She whispered loudly to her queen, “Don’t! Please. He knows you’re here and is trying to draw you out.”

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes at Alyna. “You know him.” It was a statement, not a question. Alyna replied with a nod as the elf spread his arms grandly.

“Behold the Vrykul! A race that has perfected war and destruction to the point of an art form. Already they’ve cast their lot with the Lich King! Their dwellings surround you and their numbers are easily five times yours.” He shrugged and gestured at the mounted Anselm. “The choice is yours. Return to the Lich King’s army and fight alongside them or remain loyal to your so-called queen and suffer their wrath as they drive you from their homelands!”

No one moved. Anselm made a show of reaching up to stroke his non-existent beard. “Is that all you’ve come to say?” He laughed and then cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, “Send these scumbags back to hell! Fire at will!”

Two-dozen arrows were loosed in a single wave. As they flew towards the elf, he shimmered and disappeared, appearing behind his vrykul bodyguards. The arrows embedded themselves into the warriors before they had a chance to react. They dropped down dead without really knowing what had just happened.

“Such a futile gesture,” purred the elf. He raised his hands and a dark purple glow began to grow in each palm.

Instinctively, both Alyna and Kyala moved to protect Sylvanas, placing their bodies in the doorway. Her view was not blocked though, and she saw what her rangers saw. As the elf finished casting his spell, purple tendrils flew from his hands to the soldiers before Anselm and the nearest archers. They all dropped their weapons and grabbed their chests, screaming in agony.

“Listen to your men’s dying cries as I drink in their souls!” shouted the elf. By the time he finished his sentence, the spell ended, and all his victims dropped to the ground as cerulean blue ribbons flew from their corpses to the elf. Alyna knew immediately they were not just dead, but utterly destroyed.

“This will not be the last you hear of me! I will return to spit on your corpses after Utgarde’s armies have descended upon you! And then, you will serve the one, true King!”

The elf cast what most would recognise as a teleportation spell, and he vanished.

Terse, angry words were spat from behind Alyna. “Let. Me. Through.”

Immediately, the rangers parted, and their queen strode out and immediately went to the nearest body. Alyna followed, knowing this was going to be a very difficult conversation. As Sylvanas bent down to examine the soldier, Alyna said softly, “They are beyond resurrection, my Lady.”

“Why?” came the angry question.

Alyna closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, Sylvanas had stood up and was glaring at her. High Executor Anselm had also dismounted and was standing just behind her shoulder. “They have no soul left to bring back. He … ate them.”

“Sounds to me she knows what just happened, my Lady,” observed the angry Forsaken officer.

“Alyna …” warned Sylvanas.

The ranger-lieutenant looked up at the cliffs, gathering her thoughts. She realised she couldn’t tell Sylvanas the whole truth. Not yet. She wanted to tell her everything, but she knew the queen was not ready to hear what she had to say. And she wasn’t quite ready to admit her most shameful secret just yet.

“He is Blood Prince Keleseth. He is one of the senior princes of the San’layn, and is a member of the Blood Council.”

Sylvanas’ eyes flashed a bright red. “The same Council you were on?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “He was a reasonably respected magister before he became what he is now.”

The queen looked at her dead soldiers. It was very clear by the controlled rage in her voice that she was trying hard to wait for Alyna’s explanation before she gave into her anger. “He consumed their souls. You did not mention that ability when you spoke to me of what you are.”

Alyna visibly winced. She definitely hadn’t mentioned it. In hindsight, she realised she should have come up with some reason to mention it as they were going to come across San’layn eventually, but she had been preoccupied with other things.

“It is a very rare skill, my Lady. While it grants great power, that power can be unstable so very few San’layn train the technique.” That much was true, she thought. A few of her undead kin had literally conflagrated themselves by absorbing too much power too quickly. Only the Council were really capable of using the ability with any degree of control.

Blazing red eyes turned to regard Alyna. “Can _you_ do that?”

Alyna did not turn her eyes away, as desperately as she wanted to. “No, my Lady. I resisted the urge to do such a thing.” A lie, and a truth. She had not always successfully resisted though.

They stared at each other for a few more moments before Sylvanas appeared to accept her answer. It made Alyna doubt as to whether she had been fully believed. She was relieved when the subject was changed.

“This ‘Utgarde’ he mentioned. The name is familiar. That is the large keep by the lake in the middle of the province?”

Alyna nodded, “Yes. It appears he has woken more of the vrykul as well. When I was here last, there was just a small handful.”

A new voice spoke from behind her. Alyna turned to see that Areiel had arrived at some point during the conversation.

The ranger-captain spoke with confidence. “I will immediately set up scouting parties atop the cliff now the lift is available. We’ll figure out where these new vrykul are hiding.”

Anselm added, “I’ll double the building of the fortifications since we’re now up against an army of giant humans. I will also have the mages set up some wards to prevent another incursion via teleportation.”

Sylvanas looked at her senior officers, and gave her consent for them to do as they suggested. She then looked at Areiel. “Plan the next few days without Alyna. She will be escorting me to Utgarde Keep. I want to see for myself what we have to deal with.”

Alyna surprised herself by not reacting, but Areiel was not so restrained. “My Lady, is that wise? It is quite some distance to go with just a single ranger as a bodyguard. Surely we can get the information you require without placing yourself in harm’s way?”

“Your concern is noted, Ranger-Captain. And discarded. Alyna knows the land, and additional numbers would risk drawing attention to our presence. We will be back in a few days. I expect this camp to be a fully fortified base by then.”

“Yes, Dark Lady,” replied both Anselm and Areiel.

The high executor saluted and left to obey his orders. Sylvanas looked to Alyna. “Go get our horses and meet me by the lift. I’ll be there shortly.”

Alyna bowed her head, “Yes, Dark Lady.”

As she walked towards the make-shift stables, she felt Areiel fall into step beside her. Her words were quiet, but Alyna could not help the shudder that went down her spine at the malice behind them.

“Bring her back safely, or don’t come back at all.”

She was then left alone with her thoughts.


	18. Chapter 18

_20 hours later …_

Sylvanas scowled as she looked down into the fjord. Before them stood a massive castle-like structure with vicious harpoons placed at every crenel in the battlements. Despite the fearsome nature of Utgarde Keep, that was not the reason for her scowl. She was looking at a half-built settlement not far from it. The sun was too low to have cleared the cliffs yet and it looked cold, steam rising from various buildings.

“I’m going to assume that is not the reason you warned me against sailing us up the fjord,” she said quietly.

Alyna shook her head. “No, my Lady. I had no idea the Alliance were here.” She looked along the cliff they were on. Further down from their position were large structures hanging over the cliffs with more harpoons aimed down into the fjord. She gestured at them. “I was concerned about the vrykul. The Alliance must have taken heavy causalities to establish that fort.”

Sylvanas looked towards the entrance to the bay below. She could see the wreckage of several Alliance ships. One was somehow halfway up the narrow cliffs and stuck between them, burning. She looked back at the fort. It was under continuous attack by the vrykul from the keep. “Fools.” Her ranger-lieutenant gave her a strange look. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Despite looking a little nervous, Alyna eventually replied, “That could have been us.” The queen responded with a short laugh, but she felt her humour dissipate as Alyna continued, “After fighting your way through all that, would you really have called for a retreat?”

Sylvanas felt her anger rise. She was about to scold Alyna for daring to call her reckless, but she stopped. As she looked at Alyna’s face and posture, and as she processed the words, she realised there was no challenge or malice to them. The simple answer was no, she would not have called for a retreat. Her ego and her sheer determination to make Arthas pay for what he had done would have overrode any higher thinking. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she mulled it all over.

“I understand,” she started. “He knows how much I want revenge. He will use that against us any way he can.” She dropped her hand to look at Alyna. “I need to be smart about this.”

Alyna nodded slowly. “He knows you, my Lady.” She shrugged slightly. “He knows me too. And he’ll use that knowledge to punish us for rallying against him. If we are to ever get close to him, we need to stop being what he created, what he expects us to be, and be … more.”

Sylvanas regarded Alyna with appreciation. Would she have accepted such advice from anyone else? She doubted it. She did wonder if Alyna truly appreciated what her own words meant though with regards to herself.

“For me, that is not letting my nature get the better of me. But do you realise what that means for you, Alyna?”

The woman winced and looked away. When she spoke, even Sylvanas’ elven ears had trouble hearing her. “He expects me to keep rejecting his ‘gift’; to keep myself weaker than my kin because of my disgust for it. He probably doesn’t see me as the threat I should be as a result.”

She knew Alyna was torn, and she thought she understood. Alyna had spent her entire existence trying to rebel against what she was, whether it was being a noble, a mage, or a darkfallen. Accepting what she had become would require a fundamental shift in her psyche.

As Alyna looked at her with her black eyes, Sylvanas felt something inside her shift, again. Her ranger was increasingly having that affect on her it would seem. She had adored Alyna’s dark blue eyes in life and had frequently got lost in them. Now, she felt her black eyes almost sucked her in, and she found she didn’t mind at all.

The banshee queen edged closer and placed a hand on the torn woman’s shoulder. “You’d still be you.”

“Will I be?” came the fearful response as she looked away again.

Sylvanas smiled slightly. “If there’s one thing I know about you, Alyna, it’s that you always find a way.” She tilted her head and squeezed Alyna’s shoulder slightly. “Not so long ago, this conversation wouldn’t have been possible. I … would not have listened. Will I ever be who I was before we died? No. But I can still become someone I can live with. Someone you’ll be proud of.” She chuckled lightly. “And if I can start such a journey, so can you. When you’re ready.”

She felt Alyna almost lean into her hand. “I’m not sure I can control it. The hunger … it fuels itself. The more I take, the more I want. The more powerful I feel, the more elation I get. It’s intoxicating, and addictive.”

“The best people to have power, are those who do not want it,” came her steady response. That got Alyna’s attention and she gave Sylvanas a curious look. “But you need to stop fearing it. Give it a very healthy respect, absolutely, and that will keep you from abusing it as …” Sylvanas felt something akin to shame fill her. She lowered her voice as she continued, “… as I did.”

She dropped her hand from Alyna’s shoulder. “I never asked for power, and perhaps that’s why the Forsaken kept giving it to me. Their trust, their fears, their certainty that I would solve all of their problems and guide them to stability ... it was all dropped into my lap.” She sat back as the memories of the early days of the Forsaken came back to her. “I used to worry about it, and it kept me from stepping over the line. And then I stopped. I took it for granted as what I needed to defeat Arthas. So, when you came, I didn’t even think before I imprisoned you.”

Alyna shook her head slowly. “I think that’s what scares me. You always knew where that line was before, and you always kept from crossing it. I don’t want the same thing to happen to me.”

“Did I, Alyna? Did I always know? Or was it you who always made sure I kept on the right side of it?”

They looked at each other for long moments as Sylvanas let the words sink in. The long sea voyages had given her a lot of time to think. She knew her words were true. She also knew it was her turn to be the support, for once. It was time she gave back to Alyna instead of just take, and now was the time Alyna needed the most help.

Slowly, she raised her gloved fingers to Alyna’s cheek. “You’re not alone. I can’t keep you at my side all the time, but you are not alone in this. Whatever you need, I will grant you.” She gave Alyna a hopefully comforting smile. “And if you try to cross the line, or even do so, I’ll be here to pull you back.”

Alyna just stared at her. She would have killed to know what the woman was thinking, but instead she just dropped her hand and gave her a brief nod to confirm her own words.

* * *

She felt the loss of the fingers on her cheek. Sylvanas’ familiar touch brought a sense of calm to the otherwise constant turmoil inside her, and had done so for weeks now. She had missed it lately as she had been able to start suppressing her urges, and not go to Sylvanas for help. She had not wanted to press the queen for such things and push her luck with the woman’s patience. It had surprised her when she realised she missed their intimacy now she wasn’t driven to seek it.

As for the queen’s words, she wanted to believe she could rely on Sylvanas to be there for her for her sake, and not for the queen’s own reasons. She had certainly listened to Alyna’s warning recently without snapping at her. She had also trusted Alyna enough to not question her advice in battle. Was she really trying to change, or was it all a ruse to get what she wanted?

It didn’t sound like one.

“I’m not sure what to say, my Lady. Thank you.” She looked up at the sun, desperately wanting something else to focus on. “The sun is getting higher. Our shadows will be visible soon as it clears the cliffs if we don’t move.”

“Then, we must move.” Sylvanas didn’t even look at the sun to make the judgement for herself. Alyna felt she would have if it had been anyone else giving her the information. It was as if they were a team again.

Together, they silently moved back from the edge and into the bushes with Alyna leading the way. She guided them back the way they had come towards their horses. Still some way out, she felt Sylvanas tap her arm. “I want to get a better look at the vrykul town.” Alyna wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but she obeyed, and adjusted their path.

The town overlooked the fjord on one side, but the rest was surrounded by thick forest. With great care, Alyna moved nearer, careful not to leave any sign of their passage. Wherever she trod, she knew Sylvanas was placing her own feet. If they did leave a mark, the vrykul may only expect there to be one of them. When they were near the edge of the forest, she looked around for a suitable tree to climb. Most were pine trees of some type, and she eventually found one with low enough branches to scale without being seen. Sylvanas followed, and they knelt side by side together on a thick bough.

The vrykul homes were mostly long and low, with the long ridge at the top of the roof extending away from the building and carved into a stylised dragonhead. The land was raised in the east with a large, grand home on top. Two large towers were in the northeast and southeast corners, with guards on watch on platforms near the top. Red banners with a dark dragon skull emblazoned on them hung throughout the town.

Alyna spoke quietly. “The town is called Nifflevar, though it was the size of a village the last I saw of it. It belongs to the Dragonflayer clan.”

“Why such an increase in size?”

Alyna had fully briefed the queen on the vrykul, but she realised the amount of information she had told Sylvanas lately would have made it difficult for details to be memorable. She decided to give her a brief overview. “For unknown reasons, the vrykul placed their entire race into a deep sleep around fifteen thousand years ago. They started waking up a few years ago, probably due to the influence of the Lich King. When Arthas realised he had an entire warrior race available, he wanted them recruited.”

Sylvanas nodded, “And you were sent to secure their loyalty.”

The darkfallen ranger gave her a confirming nod. “Yes. Along with Keleseth. If they wouldn’t serve in life, we were to kill them and have them serve in death.”

“It appears they chose life,” mused the queen.

“For the most part, yes. The vrykul see the Lich King as a death god, especially after he discovered the val’kyr and bound them to his service. They saw that as the ultimate confirmation of his power.”

Sylvanas looked at Alyna. “The val’kyr being their best female warriors who have ascended into undeath?”

Alyna sighed. “Sort of. I don’t really understand what happens to them, even though I oversaw the process for a nearly a year.” She gestured to the northwest. “In Icecrown, the home of the Lich King, the vrykul women fight in a regular tournament, and the victor is transformed by Arthas into a val’kyr. They exist between life and death, and are able to move between both at will. The val’kyr then watch the other vrykul fight throughout Northrend. Once done, the combatants are judged by them. Those considered worthy are given their blessing, and become Ymirjar, the elite warriors of the Lich King’s new army. The losers are cursed, and become disgraced vargul. They’re undead labourers, but they still retain part of who they are. Enough for them to know of their fate, and to resent it.”

The queen shook her head sadly. “It amazes me that any intelligent race would aspire to be honoured by Arthas.”

“Their warrior nature drives them. They see him as able to give them glorious victories.”

“Who rules them?”

Alyna looked into the town through the branches and pine needles. “Right now, I’m not sure. The Dragonflayer clan are the dominant clan. They had a king before they went to sleep, though he had not been found by the time I left for the Eastern Kingdoms. The deal I struck was with their recently awoken queen, Angerboda. She had slept near here, while her husband was secured in the mountains north of here in a fortress they call Gjalerbron. Unfortunately, even mountains can move in fifteen thousand years, and they couldn’t find his chamber. With so many vrykul now awake, I think they have at least found other chambers if not his.”

Sylvanas was scowling as she followed Alyna’s gaze. “Arthas has his army.”

“One of several,” Alyna reminded her queen. “He has the vrykul, the undead nerubian spider people, the dragons he has been raising, and the higher Scourge such as the darkfallen. Then there’s the countless mindless undead.”

The queen shook her head. “We can’t come near those numbers. Not even with the Alliance.”

“No, but the majority of undead can’t think for themselves,” Alyna pointed out. “They need direction and control. If we remove their generals in battles spread across Northrend, to prevent any formation of a mass army, then we have a chance to get to Arthas.”

Sylvanas gave her a grateful look. “I am glad you came with me to Orgrimmar. They would never have agreed to split our forces had you not explained that possibility.” She then looked at the town, her ears flicking. Alyna heard the sounds too, and followed her eyes. The vrykul were starting to gather below the raised land that held their leader’s home. “I really want to see what that’s about.”

Alyna’s eyes widened. “Your Majesty, I strongly advise against that. They have mystics who would detect our use of stealth, if not see us outright.”

She received an almost flirtatious grin in response. “You forget, I’m a banshee. I could easily possess one of these vrykul.”

“And if you said the wrong thing at the wrong time, they would kill your vessel and you with it.” It was Alyna’s turn to scowl. “I cannot let you do that.”

“Then what do you suggest, Ranger-Lieutenant?” She was still smiling. Alyna had no idea why.

They both then heard the sounds of laughter approaching from behind them. By the look of it, older children were arriving home from gathering fruits and berries from deeper in the forest. Alyna looked up to Sylvanas to find the queen already looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

Very quietly, Sylvanas whispered, “I’m not the only one who can take over another.”

Realisation flashed through Alyna’s mind. Sylvanas was right, and Alyna could also do it from a distance. She closed her eyes. All it would cost … was a child’s life. She had no moral objection to the physical price, her soulstate being what it was. But was she ready to take the next step towards becoming all she could be?

She didn’t want to disappoint her queen.

She dropped down from the tree and was able to land silently despite the distance. The children were going to pass nearby, so she crouched down and used the bushes that grew on the forest floor for cover. As they were about to pass by, she drew on the shadows and fully stealthed herself so she could stand up without being seen. They were children, but they were vrykul children, and the shortest of them was already taller than her. They ran past her carrying sacks and baskets full of what they had found. The fastest and strongest led the way, as she knew they inevitably would. Her eyes fixed on the girl trying to keep up at the rear. She hadn’t fallen behind her peers by much, but it was enough. Almost casually, the darkfallen removed her gauntlets and tucked them into her belt.

Alyna was close enough all she had to do was reach out, and she did. She grasped the girl’s mouth and shoulder, spinning her around to get her off balance. The other children ran on, oblivious to the girl’s muffled cries. Alyna pushed the girl to the ground and lay on her, using her body to control her. She was vrykul, but Alyna had her undead strength. She pressed herself into the girl’s chest, restricting her breathing as she pulled down the protective fur clothing that covered the child’s neck. Carefully, she sank her fangs into the girl. She didn’t want any bruises or marks on her to show once she was done.

Unlike her normal victims, Alyna didn’t drain much blood from the girl. She needed just enough for the girl’s life essence to start coursing through Alyna and be corrupted. She held the girl close for the few minutes that would take. The next step was always the trickiest, but she had come to understand the nature of a frightened animal and would use that to her advantage. She slowly loosened her tight grip on the girl’s mouth, just enough to allow her to move her jaw.

Predictably, the first thing the vrykul did was bite Alyna as hard as she could. Which was exactly what she had wanted. She forced her wounded fingers between the girl’s lips so she had no choice but to consume some of the black blood she had drawn from her captor. Black blood that would seal her fate. Alyna closed her eyes as the girl jerked and spasmed in her arms. Quickly, the girl went still, and Alyna could feel her presence at the back of her mind. She was her vassal now and she would obey her completely.

She stood, and willed the girl to do the same. Alyna regarded her slowly, and adjusted the girl’s clothing to show no sign of the struggle or the bite.

_Take what you have gathered, and join your people. They are coming together for something. You will be amongst them._

Wordlessly, the girl obeyed. As she jogged away, Alyna went back to the tree Sylvanas had watched the whole process from, and climbed it to kneel next to her queen again. She noted Sylvanas had her bow ready, in case any of the other children had decided to investigate their missing friend.

“Well done,” she said quietly.

Alyna gave her a nod. She was trying not to really think about what she had just done, but it felt good to have her queen’s appreciation. She looked at her bitten hand and willed the wound to heal. The skin closed within seconds, and she pulled her gauntlets back on.

“Are you in direct control of her?” asked Sylvanas.

Alyna shook her head. “Not at this moment. She is still … intact, but her will is my will. If she tries to do or say anything I do not approve of, my will subverts her own. Though, she shouldn’t do that. Part of my curse instils a desire to please me, and even rewards her with a feeling of pleasure should she earn it. I can see and hear everything she does.” She knew exactly who that made her sound like. She ignored it and her own hypocrisy.

“And you can still see and talk to me?” Sylvanas seemed surprised. It would appear the queen had assumed Alyna would be in a trance.

Alyna nodded. Images were flashing through the back of her mind along with voices. She had learnt a few years ago how to separate it from her own sense of self to prevent from being overwhelmed by it. She had become skilled enough to have up to four vassals at any one time, though she had normally kept it at three.

“Yes. It took some time to get used to it, but it’s second nature to me now.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes and watched as the crowd gathered. Her vassal had moved forward to stand with the other youths near the front. The vrykul language was an ancient form of Common, and she could hear the banter and boasts of those around. She realised the assembly was a regular one.

Sylvanas gave her a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

Alyna blinked and turned to look at her queen. “Me? Yes. I’m just listening. It seems they have these gatherings every few days.”

The queen reached out and brushed two fingers along Alyna’s cheek, before she gently took hold of Alyna’s chin. She was looking at her lips as she spoke. “You haven’t come to me for a while.”

“Now?” She heard herself say. “Now you want to have this talk?”

Sylvanas shrugged slightly and looked away. “I feel it is one that’ll be had sometime soon.”

Alyna watched Sylvanas carefully. “I am not overwhelmed anymore by carnal urges. I can now supress them. The sleep sticks you’ve given me also help, as has the privacy you have afforded me on the _Windrunner_.” She tilted her head slightly. “I thought … you’d be relieved.”

The queen looked up into the tree canopy, avoiding Alyna’s black gaze. “My initial reluctance aside, I have … enjoyed … our liaisons.” Her ears drooped slightly and Alyna realised she was feeling sad. “I wanted to forget you. So, I did, though not completely. Being alone didn’t bother me because no one could ever replace you. Now you’re here, and I find I am not so comfortable being alone anymore.”

Alyna was stunned into silence. So much so that she completely missed the emergence of the clan’s thane. The first thing she knew about it was when his voice boomed through her mind, which caused her to jump.

_“Dragonflayers! Today, we have an honoured guest at our meet! He comes with a message from the God of Death himself.” The large white-haired vrykul turned to his home as a familiar form exited and strode gracefully towards him. “Be welcome, Prince Keleseth. We await the words of our god!”_

As he spoke, Alyna repeated his words quietly for Sylvanas. The crowd grew closer together, pressing forward to make sure they could hear the proclamation.

_Keleseth surveyed the crowd before stretching out his arms to encompass them. “Loyal subjects of the Lich King! I bring you good news! He has found your beloved leader, King Ymiron, as a gift for your loyalty. Even now, your queen is at his side working to wake him to lead you to glory!”_

_The crowd cheered with great enthusiasm at the news. Alyna made sure her vassal joined in. After allowing a minute of celebration, Keleseth gestured for silence. The crowd obediently obeyed._

_“To celebrate the glorious rise of the Vrykul people, the Lich King has decreed that more of your warriors will be given the right to fight for his blessing and ascension, so that the Dragonflayer clan can take their rightful place as the vanguard of his army.”_

_Behind the san’layn, a winged figure faded into view. Her body was an ethereal grey-white, and clad in dark leather-like armour and straps. She wore a dark helm with stylised wings angled up to create two horned spikes. It covered her face down to her mouth, though her eyes were not required for sight. Her black wings flapped to keep her hovering, though at a closer look they turned to white towards the edges. The crowd reacted to her with awe and reverence._

Alyna heard Sylvanas gasp at the sight. She had been very curious about the val’kyr, and was seeing one for the first time. Alyna had the opposite reaction. “My Lady, we need to go,” she said urgently.

_The val’kyr’s voice was deep and otherworldly as she spoke. “Those who wish to face the challenges of ascension, step forward.”_

Sylvanas was about to object having seen something of interest, but one look at Alyna’s face convinced her to start climbing down the tree. Alyna followed. She started to guide Sylvanas away from the town as quickly as she dared.

_Near two-dozen males and females began moving through the crowd to make themselves known to the val’kyr. As they did, the val’kyr surveyed them and the crowd. Her masked gaze finally rested on Alyna’s vassal. Being so near the front, the girl was within hearing range of the conversation that followed._

“What is going on?” hissed Sylvanas as they started to jog.

“My curse … the val’kyr will see it. It protects my vassals from undeath and she will see she cannot alter her soul.”

Sylvanas grunted. “And then they’ll look for us.”

 _Me, not us,_ thought Alyna. But she kept her reply to herself as she heard and saw through her vassal.

_“Blood Prince, why have you a vassal here?”_

_The san’layn turned to look up at the val’kyr, confusion in his voice. “I have no vassal here.”_

_The val’kyr raised an arm and pointed right at the girl. “Her blood is cursed.”_

_Keleseth looked at the girl, and then sneered. “How nice of you to join us, dear sister. I did wonder if you were hiding in that pathetic camp the rebels have built. Not to worry. We’ll be reunited, soon enough.”_

_Alyna snarled as she projected her words through the girl. “I look forward to killing you, brother.”_

_His dark eyes narrowed as he raised his arm. “You were never worthy of his gift.” Red tendrils began to tear away from her vassal, flying through the air to be absorbed by Keleseth. She felt the agony of his feeding through the girl as she screamed._

Alyna stumbled as the pain made her body convulse. Sylvanas wrapped an arm around her waist to catch her. Alyna closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the pain. She focused on her vassal, pushing deeper into the girl to focus on her heart. She stopped it beating. She felt the girl start to fall before she died, her presence then gone from her mind. The tension from her body left, and she looked up to see the concern in Sylvanas’ face.

“I’m okay.”

“He attacked the girl?” guessed Sylvanas.

Alyna nodded. “We need to go.” She stood, and the queen retrieved her arm from around her waist. As before, her waist felt like something was missing once the arm was gone. She ignored it for now, as both women started to sprint back to their horses.


	19. Chapter 19

Alyna pulled back on the reins of her bat, forcing the creature to fly higher to get over the white mountains before them. A pair of arms tightened around her waist to ensure the owner did not slide out of their shared saddle. She smiled under her frost-caked mask as the snowy terrain passed beneath them.

It had taken her and Sylvanas most of a day to get back to Vengeance Landing, the name eventually given to the Forsaken base. Waiting for the queen was an orc messenger. He had orders for Sylvanas to report to the magical city of Dalaran to explain to the warchief why she had attacked the Alliance. After some initial confusion as to why the warchief was in a human city in the Eastern Kingdoms, it was explained that the magi had cast a powerful spell that had somehow brought the entire city to Northrend. They had declared it neutral ground, and had welcomed both the Horde and Alliance inside to discuss how best to deal with the Lich King.

The only catch was, Alyna could no longer open a portal to the city as she had been able to do when alive as the new location had nullified her attunement. With Alyna as their guide, they were now flying there with several royal dreadguards. The city was now located near the Lich King himself in the province of Crystalsong Forest. They had passed through the fjord, had cut through the southern perimeter of the temperate Grizzly Hills, and were now at the northern edge of the frozen zone referred to as the Dragonblight. Just over the mountain was the forest that long ago had been literally turned to purple crystal by desperate Highborne elves several thousand years ago.

Not that she was really focused on their destination. Sylvanas had insisted on taking as few bats as possible, and she was now sat very snugly behind Alyna. The arms around her waist were her queen’s, and they had been there for most of the twenty-eight-hour non-stop journey. The wind in their faces had made conversation almost impossible, but that had not mattered. Neither of them had felt the cold beyond a dull ache, but both had felt the comparative warmth of each other.

As they rose over the top of the mountain, even Alyna felt shocked by the sight revealed to them. Floating near the level of the mountain top, was Dalaran. The ground it sat on was visible beneath, and she could even make out the exit of an underground sewage pipe sticking out of the floating soil. At the furthest point from their position, was a great tower that soared into the sky, the Violet Citadel. Alyna knew that was where the ruling Council of Six spent most of their days.

But, even that paled with the sight behind the citadel and the floating city. In the distance, rising out of a mountain yet taller than what they had just flown over, was the black visage of Icecrown Citadel. The highest points disappeared up into the clouds, and the dull metal appeared to absorb all light that hit it. Alyna knew, at the very top, was where Arthas ruled from on the Frozen Throne.

A shudder went down Alyna’s spine. The arms around her waist squeezed slightly as if Sylvanas had felt the shudder and knew why.

 _I am not alone,_ she thought. It settled her as she scanned the city for somewhere to land. As they flew around, she saw a large platform that appeared to have been set up for that very purpose, and they swooped down, the four bats landing with lopping gaits. Sylvanas immediately slid off the back, and Alyna suppressed a chuckle. It would appear her queen was still not very fond of flying. As she removed herself from the saddle, she heard the delicate sound of cracking and splitting. She looked down and realised she was covered in ice and it was now falling to the floor. When she looked up again, she could see several magical staves pointed in their direction, held by nervous humans.

“Scourge are not welcome here!” cried one of the humans.

The six royal dreadguard immediately surrounded Sylvanas, shields raised. She then ordered them to stand down, much to the confusion of the human magi, and the dreadguard.

As Alyna moved towards her queen, Sylvanas raised her voice for everyone on the platform to hear. “We are not Scourge! We are the free-willed undead of the Forsaken.”

A tall figure suddenly materialised between the Forsaken and the armed mages. Alyna realised by his ears that he was an elf, though his face was completely covered by a hood. He looked at the mage-guards, who had already lowered their staves at seeing him.

“Lower your weapons! You were told they would be arriving, and this is no way to greet the ruler of the Forsaken, and an ally.” He turned to regard the undead, and bowed deeply. “Lady Sylvanas, my sincerest apologies.” He rose and gestured to the visible black citadel behind them. “Our proximity to that abomination has made everyone nervous. I am Archmage Aethas Sunreaver, of the Kirin Tor.”

Sylvanas gave him a curt tilt of her head in greeting as the mage-guard finally retreated back to their posts, some reluctantly. “Your arrival was timely, Archmage.”

“In truth, I was expecting something like this, my Lady, though I did try to avert it. It will be … difficult … for the local inhabitants to look at your people and not immediately see our enemy. I hope time, and exposure, will change that.”

Alyna knew it wouldn’t change for many of them, but so long as they were treated with civility she really didn’t care how they felt.

Sylvanas’ eyes flashed with impatience. “If you were expecting us, Archmage, then you know why I am here.”

“Yes, indeed. The Warchief is waiting for you in Sunreaver Sanctuary. I also lead the Sunreavers, so if there is any accommodation or comfort you require as you make use of the Sanctuary, please do ask.” He then looked directly at Alyna. “I would expect your companion will wish to attune herself to the city? It was wise to bring a mage to facilitate faster travel in the future.”

Sylvanas and Alyna exchanged a glance before the queen looked at Aethas. “This is Ranger-Lieutenant Alyna Darkfury. I would have you extend your offer of aid to her as well. She acts in my name.”

Alyna bowed her head slightly in greeting. The archmage was wearing a hood, but she did note his body stiffen slightly. His words became guarded. “Interesting. And, of course, my Lady. Please, follow me? The portal room is nearby, so we can get that out of the way first.”

She followed her queen, remaining close, as they left the landing platform and entered the city. The royal dreadguard followed, their armour rattling and clanking. Despite the inhospitable location, the city was bustling in a manner Alyna had never seen before. Her previous visits had shown her a city full of humans, with a small number of high elves. Now she could see every Azerothian race she had ever met, and even some she hadn’t.

They all stopped and moved aside when they saw the Forsaken. She made it a point to not avert her gaze from them, and she found the results interesting. Most had various degrees of undisguised fear and disgust on their faces. She could hear the unmistakable sound of retching as well. She couldn’t blame them for that as she knew some of the royal dreadguard reeked of rotting flesh. Some though, were clearly curious and were edging closer for a better look. One was a small human girl who managed to wrestle away from her mother’s grip. She ran straight up to Alyna.

“Miss! Miss!” came the small voice, in Common. A few gasps of shock flew up from the onlookers. Alyna stopped to look down at the girl, guessing she was about eight or nine years old. The child looked up at her with pale blue eyes, her light blonde hair in two large plaits each side of her head. “Mommy says you’re bad, but you don’t look bad.”

Alyna flicked her eyes up to regard the mother who had followed her child. She looked scared, and slightly embarrassed. She looked down at the girl again, and knelt on one knee to be more at her level. “Why does your mother think I am bad?”

The girl giggled. “Your voice sounds funny. Is that because you’re dead?”

Alyna blinked in surprise. “Yes. You are well informed, little one.”

The pale face wrinkled in concentration. “So, if you’re dead, then you’re bad. But you don’t _look_ bad.”

The darkfallen tilted her head slightly. The child was blunt, but not unpleasant. “I am … different. And what’s different isn’t always bad, but … it is always wise to be cautious and make the decision for yourself.”

The girl blinked a few times, processing the words. “Different can be fun. The same is boring.” She squinted her eyes, peering at Alyna. “Why do you wear that mask? Can I see?” She started to reach for Alyna, but she apparently remembered her manners and stopped, tucking her hands behind her back shyly.

Without any real thought, Alyna reached up and gently tugged down the black cloth hiding her nose and mouth, very conscious of her fangs slightly showing.

The girl’s face lit up. “Oh! You’re so pretty! You should stop wearing it.”

Before Alyna could figure out what to say next, an adult hand planted itself on the girl’s shoulder. She looked up to see the trembling mother. “That’s enough, Lizabeth. These people need to get on with their day.” 

Taking her cue from the parent, Alyna looked at the girl. “You should go with your mother, Lizabeth.”

Sad blue eyes looked directly at her. “It was nice to meet you …” She trailed off, realising something was missing. She gave Alyna a begging look.

“You may call me Alyna.” She felt her lips smile slightly. There was something about the pure innocence of children she had missed the past few years.

The girl repeated her name a few times and then hugged her mother as she was led away. Alyna stood, and replaced her mask. She turned to see Sylvanas looking at her. Her face was impassive to most, but Alyna knew how to read her; her ears, her body language, the glint in her red eyes, and the very tiny raised corner of one side of her mouth. Her queen was highly amused.

As Aethas waved for them to continue, Sylvanas dropped back. Her voice was light-hearted as she quietly said in Thalassian, “The child is right. You _should_ stop wearing it.”

Alyna just grunted her response. She could feel Sylvanas grow more amused. Thankfully, they had reached the portal room and it stopped all conversation.

Portal attunements ranged from the very simple, to the ludicrously hard, depending on local factors and the mage in question. As Alyna had been previously attuned to the same portal stone in a different location, she had to break the connection first before she could move further. The problem was, she had been a living elf the last time she went to Dalaran, and now she was dead. The portal stone recognised her enough to not allow her to attune, but didn’t recognise her essence to remove her prior connection. It took two specialist archmages and the portal keeper to figure out a workaround, but eventually she was attuned.

With great relief, she stepped back outside. Sylvanas’ impatience had got the better of her and Aethas had suggested he show her around the local area. She had been completely disinterested, but had agreed to follow if only to give Alyna space to concentrate. Alyna looked around. Her exit was on the corner of two streets, but she couldn’t see Sylvanas or her guards down either street.

Recalling where the Sanctuary was, Alyna turned left and immediately bumped into someone. She heard a surprised ‘umph!’ and a couple of high pitched squeals as she stepped back, holding her hands out to ward off anyone who may be falling on her. “My apologies,” she started, and then she froze. She looked at the man who had just walked into her.

“Zendarin …? Is that you? It’s Alyna.”

The male elf had stumbled back. She looked down and saw the source of the squeals. He was holding the hands of two little boys with flaming red hair and light grey-blue eyes. Their ears were elven, but shorter than she would expect for children of five or six years old.

“Alyna?” He regained his footing and looked at her, shock on his face. “You’re … here? How are you here?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but she suddenly found her lower legs encased in ice. The children had also been rooted to the floor, and were starting to wail. Zendarin gave her a wide-eyed look, and ran away. As if that wasn’t odd enough, two very familiar people spotted her from further down the street, and sprinted in her direction. She had not expected to really see either of them again.

Vereesa Windrunner ran to one child, and Rhonin Redhair ran to the other. They were both frantic. Vereesa looked up at her with the same eyes as the boys, anger and fear on her face as the archmage removed the frost spell. “How dare you! What the hell did you think you’d accomplish taking our sons?”

Alyna blinked and looked at the two boys again. They were about the right age, she realised. “I didn’t take your boys, Vereesa. But you should talk to Zendarin. He was the one with them when he froze us to the floor.”

She felt a presence at her shoulder, and without looking she knew it was her queen by the slight widening of Vereesa’s eyes.

“What is going on?” Sylvanas asked, though it sounded more like a demand.

Alyna sighed. “I was looking for you, my Lady, and bumped into your cousin, Zendarin. Literally. He had these boys with him. He then froze us, and ran away. Your sister seems to think I took them.”

Vereesa was standing protectively in front of her family as her husband held their boys. “They were taken from the nursery about ten minutes ago.” She narrowed her eyes at Alyna.

“I was here, attuning.” She gestured at the portal room.

Aethas stepped forward. “Ranger-General, it would be a simple matter to check her alibi if you wish to proceed, but I can vouch for her.”

Alyna glanced briefly at Sylvanas. _Ranger-General?_ Sylvanas gave her a brief nod. She would explain later.

Rhonin leant forward and gently rested his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Come, Vereesa. I’ll have the guards search for Zendarin. He won’t get far.”

As Rhonin started to pull the family away, Vereesa glared at Alyna. “Stay away from us,” she spat.

As they watched them leave, Alyna said quietly to Sylvanas, “You said nothing to her.”

“And she said nothing to me. That is how she wishes it to be.” Her voice was cold.

She turned to look at her queen, who was staring down the street the family had just disappeared down. She wanted to ask what happened, but knew this was the wrong time and place to do so. Instead, they followed Aethas to the Sanctuary.

The meeting with Thrall was shorter than Alyna would have expected. When the Kirin Tor had invited the Horde and Alliance into the city, the Alliance’s leader, King Varian Wrynn, had complained the Forsaken had attacked his fleet using underhanded means. With Alyna’s help, Sylvanas explained what happened, and who the Kvaldir were. The Forsaken had not attacked the Alliance, but had defended themselves instead, and were still doing so. The Alliance sailors that had been shipwrecked had tried to loot the stricken _Queen's Reprisal_ instead of just retreating and leaving the Forsaken to the land.

With the situation clarified, they had been dismissed, and were now strolling through one of the small gardens within the Sanctuary. As it was a secure area, Sylvanas had released the royal dreadguard to their barracks.

“When do you wish to return to Vengeance Landin, my Lady?”

Sylvanas’ ears flicked as an insect dared to buzz around her. “You’ll head back soon. I will not be joining you.”

Alyna looked up at her queen. She knew Sylvanas was not used to sharing her plans with anyone, but she risked asking. “What will you be doing, my Lady?”

The queen followed the offending invertebrate, and then suddenly reached out to grab it. Alyna could no longer hear the buzzing. “A portal to Undercity has been established, so I will be returning home.” She brushed her hand on her cloak. “Since the Warchief has decided to try and work with the Alliance, I wish to have a diplomatic team permanently here in the city to … keep an eye on things.”

Alyna stopped walking and turned to her queen. “Will you be re-joining us at Vengeance Landing?”

Sylvanas stepped forward into Alyna’s personal space. After gently lowering her black mask, she lightly took her ranger’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Will you miss me?” came the quiet question.

Alyna smiled slightly at the familiar gesture. She had spent so much time with her ruler lately, it would be strange to not have her presence nearby. She was still wary around the queen, but her guard was slowly lowering. Perhaps their separation would help keep her cautious.

She was about to reply when she heard a horrified gasp. As she turned her head towards it, Sylvanas quickly dropped her hand and did the same.

Across the small garden, Alyna’s father, older brother and younger sister stood watching the two Forsaken. Lirea’s pale-green eyes were wide in surprise, but her brother and father looked guarded. _Typical_ , Alyna thought. Her father had told Galanir of her existence, but not Lirea.

“A-Alyna?” The young elf looked at their father, and then back to her dead sister. “You’re … here. How?” She looked back at her parent. “I don’t understand. You’re not surprised, Father.”

The eldest Salonar looked down at his youngest daughter. “I’m sorry, Lirea. I wanted to protect you from what she’s become. I knew you two were … close.” He seemed to stumble over how to define the sisters.

“Protect me? From seeing my sister again? No.” She shook her head firmly. “No, you don’t do things for others, only for yourself.”

The vitriol in Lirea’s voice was surprising to Alyna. She exchanged a glance with Sylvanas, who appeared equally curious. The quick turn of her head meant she missed Lirea rapidly closing the distance between them, and the next thing she knew two arms pulled her into a hug. Too surprised to react, Alyna just stood there with her arms hovering in the air. It didn’t last long. A moment later, Lirea broke away and took a step back. She was frowning.

“You’re … cold. Too … cold …” She looked at Sylvanas, and then back to Alyna.

Part of Alyna felt for what Lirea was going through as she watched the realisation show on her face, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Pale hands flew to an open mouth as Lirea gasped again. Behind her, their father slowly closed the distance between them. “You’re dead. Aren’t you? By the Sunwell, this can’t be! Not you.” Her head shook as tears appears in her eyes. “Not you!”

“Lirea,” Athanos started with unusual gentleness, “let’s find somewhere quiet. You’ve had a bit of a shock, child.”

He tried to pull her into a hug, but she rejected him. He settled for placing a hand on her elbow to guide her away. With a look of disbelief, Lirea allowed it, and the three left the garden by the way they came in.

Alyna looked after them, unsure how to feel.

“It’s easy not to say a word to them,” mulled Sylvanas. “No matter what you do say, it can’t make up for what they are seeing. I’m sorry it happened that way for you.” Alyna’s eyebrows narrowed slightly as she looked at Sylvanas. Only then did she realise she truly had not said a thing to her sister. Her queen continued, though she tried to soften her words. “We cannot comfort them, Alyna. If she’s kind to herself, she’ll rationalise you’re not her sister, and move on.”

She looked at the colourful array in the garden as Sylvanas spoke. She would have adored this space in life, but now it felt one-dimensional. She could see the colour, but she couldn’t smell the flowers. She could hear small birds calling to each other, but the sounds gave her none of the joy she knew she used to feel. She knew Sylvanas was not being unkind. She was right. If Lirea tried to connect with her, she might never move past and accept what Alyna was now. That would just lead to anger and hate.

She felt a hand on her lower back, and turned her head to look at her queen.

“I have been assigned quarters here,” Sylvanas raised her eyes to Alyna’s. “Would you accompany me to them?”

Alyna replied with a nod, and followed her queen out of the garden. It suddenly felt wrong to be there, like she didn’t belong amongst something so alive. With Sylvanas, she belonged. They shared an awful reality that was now more bearable because they were no longer alone in dealing with it. As they entered the queen’s quarters, Alyna came to a decision. As the queen hung her bow and stowed her quiver, Alyna moved up behind her.

When Sylvanas turned, her eyes widened slightly at the close proximity of her ranger, but she didn’t object. She also didn’t object when Alyna slid her hand round to the back of her head and pulled her closer for a searing kiss.

She couldn’t smell the flowers, or find cheer in birdsong. But kissing Sylvanas was a sensation she could feel and find comfort in. It allowed her to experience sensation in an existence that generally felt like she was not a part of the world. While their sex was loveless, there was a familiarity and tenderness that could replicate it if not entirely. And when Sylvanas made her climax … her body felt alive, and almost whole.

Alyna pushed her queen up against the wall and broke their kiss, their bodies pressed together. She smiled rakishly at the slightly dazed and turned on look on Sylvanas’ unguarded face.

“Is that what you want?” she husked.

The low chuckle she got in reply vibrated through her body. “It’s a very good start.” Sylvanas leant forward to resume the kiss, but she found two fingers pressed against her lips instead. She opened her eyes in confusion.

“I’ll give you what you want … but I want something in return.” She quirked a white eyebrow as her grin grew wider.

Sylvanas lifted her head and raised her own eyebrow. Her open expression became more guarded. “You’re making demands of me?”

Alyna pressed her thigh up into her queen’s crotch. Sylvanas glanced down a moment before meeting her ranger’s eyes again.

“I will not be your subject in your bed any longer, Sylvanas. If that’s where you want me, then I am your equal.”

She could see the queen thinking her words through. Her eyes remained dilated with desire, which Alyna thought could only be a good thing. Eventually, she started to slowly nod. “Okay, Alyna. When we are alone … I am not your queen.” Her red eyes flashed with power briefly, and Alyna understood. So long as she did not abuse her privilege, Sylvanas would keep her word.

Without breaking eye contact, Alyna slowly trailed her fingers down the front of Sylvanas’ stomach, slipped them into the woman’s pants and down to her crotch. As she began to touch the woman intimately, she watched as Sylvanas’ eyes struggled to maintain focus. Taking pity on the woman, she smiled slowly. “I’m glad we could come to an agreement.”

Sylvanas half-laughed, half-moaned as she leant into her.

 _Birds be damned,_ thought Alyna. She now knew what sounded like music to her ears. She chuckled huskily as she made Sylvanas sing her tune.


	20. Chapter 20

_A few hours later …_

Sylvanas looked down at the sleeping form of Alyna. She was sat up on the bed, her legs stretched out as the fragrant fumes of Alyna’s sleep stick hovered in the air. The darkfallen was facing away from her as she slept, and she could see the two long dark wounds on her back, just inside her shoulder blades.

Without thinking, she reached out to touch what remained of Alyna’s wings. Though the wounds were closed, she knew Alyna still felt their absence through a constant throb. As her fingers moved onto bare skin, the woman shifted, and rolled over, snuggling into the queen’s leg and resting her head near her hip.

Sylvanas froze at the intimate position, and then relaxed as she told herself it was an unconscious move on Alyna’s part. She moved her fingers to brush the white hair from her ranger’s face, before resting her hand on the pillow to gently stroke her head. She had watched Alyna use the sticks a couple of times, and she envied what she could see in the relaxed features. She had never asked Alyna what she saw as she used them, but by the look of it, it was of happier times. On the rare occasion that they had put Sylvanas to sleep, she had only seen her nightmares.

She felt calm watching Alyna. For years all she had felt was hatred and rage. She had even fostered it. That was now being tempered, slowly, by being close to Alyna. If she was being honest with herself, it scared her. What else would she begin to feel once the rage subsided enough? When hate stopped being the first thing she felt, what would be behind it?

Could she risk finding out?

She had agreed to Alyna’s request for equality because it would be a private thing between them. No one else would know. Her people would still see her as the indomitable queen. They would have their secret and she would not be seen as weak. She hoped it would be enough. She knew Alyna would not wish for a romantic relationship, but what terrified the queen most was she knew she was capable of falling in love again if she ever truly let her guard down.

She had to make sure that didn’t happen.

No matter the comfort she found with Alyna, or how blissful the escape was from her rage when they slept together … Arthas had to pay. She could only make sure that happened as the Banshee Queen.

Alyna’s eyes fluttered open and immediately looked up at Sylvanas. She stopped stroking her hair and looked back at the woman. Neither of them smiled, but their faces were both relaxed.

It was Alyna who broke the spell first. “When will you be back at Vengeance Landing?”

Sylvanas thought on her answer. Sharing had not been a concept she had done easily in life, and it was certainly going to be a challenge now. She swallowed her reluctance, and replied, “I hope to pass through in three weeks. Putress should have got himself set up by then somewhere, and I want to keep an eye on his progress.”

The darkfallen sat up and slid out of the bed. “You anticipate that may not be the case?” she asked casually as she moved to where her attire had been haphazardly dropped.

The queen also rose from the bed and looked for her own clothing. “Thrall is in over his head, though he would never admit it. He is a decent diplomat, but he does not know how to conduct war.” As she found various pieces, she pulled them on. “I may come back to Dalaran instead to make sure this war is not over before it has really got started.”

Alyna moved over to help Sylvanas with some straps on her armour. “You’re that concerned he will make the wrong decision?”

“Not necessarily,” started the queen. “But he is overly cautious, and seemingly needs to commune with his ‘spirits’ for every major decision.”

“Ah. You think he’ll hesitate at a key moment and give Arthas the upper hand.”

Sylvanas gave Alyna a small smile. Perhaps this equality thing was not such a bad idea. “Indeed.” It was nice to have such a conversation with someone who could follow her train of thought naturally. She added, “If I do base myself here, I may occasionally summon you. While I trust Areiel’s reports to be accurate, I want your unique insight to add to them.”

Alyna looked up from where she was focused on a strap going across her chest. “Just my insight?”

The queen felt she was being tested. Part of her was frustrated that Alyna didn’t trust her yet, but the other part told her off for expecting such a thing so soon. “Anything else is purely … voluntary.”

That seemingly amused Alyna, though she didn’t reply. Instead, she started to secure her weapons across her body. Sylvanas just watched. As much as she wanted to keep a close eye on the progress being made on the plague to weaponize it against the Scourge, she realised that if she was to avoid her earlier concerns, basing herself in Dalaran was probably the wisest move.

When she was ready to go, Alyna turned and gave Sylvanas a slight bow of her head in farewell. Sylvanas returned the gesture, and the woman left her quarters, the exchange of goodbye pleasantries not required between the two. After a few moments, Sylvanas collected her own weapons and left the room, it suddenly becoming too empty without Alyna. She had more important things to do than dwell on it, and it was time she went home.

* * *

“Alyna!”

The ranger stopped and looked back over her shoulder. To her surprise, she could see Lirea half-jogging towards her. She was wearing simple robes, with her dark red hair worn loose to cascade down over her shoulders. The detail that really caught her attention was the colour of the off-white robes. Traditionally, only priestesses wore such a colour.

Her sister stopped a few paces away. “Can we … talk?”

“I have to get back to my unit,” she replied flatly, and she turned to carry on walking towards the landing platform.

“Please? Alyna?” She could hear the rustling of her sister’s robes as she got closer. “Alyna!”

Something about her sister’s desperation made her stop, but she didn’t turn around. “What do you expect to come out of us talking, Lirea?” she asked, keeping her voice cold. “I’m not the sister you remember.”

“Maybe not,” came the hesitant reply. “But you’re still my sister. And I love you.”

Feeling uncomfortable, Alyna started to walk again as she quietly said, “I cannot love anymore.”

A hand touched her upper arm and she turned to glare at her sister. Lirea gasped slightly at her sudden movement, but didn’t move away. Her pale-green eyes looked scared, but determined as she regarded her beloved sister. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to scare me away, but I won’t let you do it, okay? You’re going to have to deal with me one day, Alyna.”

She narrowed her eyes at Lirea, having been called out. She had thought scaring her off might force her to accept the reality of things. It would seem her sister was still stubborn. She gestured to a small grassy area just off the street, and Lirea walked towards it. Reluctantly, Alyna followed.

“You are a priestess now?” she asked pointedly before Lirea had even fully turned to face her.

Lirea looked down at her robes and then smiled at Alyna softly. “Yes. I took my final vows a few weeks ago.” She bit her lip. “Losing you and grandfather was … very difficult for me. I was so proud of the stories that were told of your stand with the Council, but it hurt. Especially with how … well. I suppose you can imagine how our family reacted to your deaths.” She sounded bitter, and then sighed. “Your faith in the Light was strong, and I sought comfort in it. It helped me find a purpose.”

Alyna gave her a short nod. Her sister had always been a kind, open woman. The priesthood made more sense than a life amongst battling magisters. It was also the only other option for a magic user. If they developed an affinity for wielding the Light, a mage would be allowed to follow that path.

Lirea gave Alyna a long look. “I understand why you didn’t tell us you were … back. I have little to do with our family as it is, so after everything you’ve been through …” she trailed off.

Alyna knew Lirea was trying to imagine the horrors of her existence. She also knew her imagination was not going to come close to the reality, which was probably a good thing. “Why were you with them earlier if you have no wish to?”

Green eyes blinked slowly. “Oh … you … probably don’t know I suppose.” She brushed her fingers back through her hair and took a deep breath. “After that creature left Silvermoon, Prince Kael’thas returned with those of us who had been here in Dalaran. The Prince then raised a force of volunteers to go to Northrend to confront Arthas.”

“I know,” said Alyna slowly. “I was here when they attacked.”

Lirea’s eyes widened in surprise. It then turned to a look of horror when she realised that Alyna had been fighting against their people and not with them. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. She took a moment to compose herself, and then continued. “What you may not know is that Galanir and Lylias were there. They volunteered to join his force, and were somehow fortunate enough to be amongst the very few who returned.”

Alyna tilted her head. She had not seen her older siblings there. If she had, she was sure the Lich King would have had her kill them. “Father did not go too? I recall he was an ardent supporter of the Prince.”

Lirea’s face took on a look of disgust. “He was a strong supporter, but he had his eye on the position left open by grandfather’s death.”

The darkfallen blinked slowly. “He stayed behind to try and become Grand Magister instead of avenge his family’s deaths?” That sounded exactly like something her father would do.

“Yes.” Lirea then laughed hollowly. “He didn’t expect the Prince not to return. When he didn’t, the Regent Lord decided to make Rommath the Grand Magister instead. Father was furious. He’s created problems within the magisterium ever since.” The young woman shifted her weight from foot to foot, and Alyna knew the reason for the story was about to be revealed. “Galanir and Lylias went with the Prince with Father’s blessing. But Calduros … he was so angry when you died. He wanted revenge, and Father refused to let him go.” She shook her head. “He went anyway, hidden amongst the soldiers. Lylias said he wasn’t discovered until it was too late to send him home.”

Alyna felt a sadness inside for her baby brother. “He did not return home with our siblings?”

Lirea shook her head. “No. They said they all got separated during the battle.”

The darkfallen closed her eyes, memories resurfacing. “The Scourge split their force. Some escaped, but most were left behind. Those that were not killed quickly were hunted through the snow. All that were caught were raised to serve the Scourge.”

Silence hung in the air between them for a while before Lirea hesitantly asked, “Was he … caught?”

Alyna looked at her. “Calduros is not one of the darkfallen. He either escaped with the Prince to a different fate, or he was one of the few who froze to death and remain unfound by the Scourge.”

She had thought her blunt words would elicit a startled response from her sister, but instead she just got a slow nod of agreement. “Before we knew of the darkfallen, that is what we had assumed. I am here today because the glacier that falls into Crystalsong has revealed some elven corpses. We came to see if one of them was our brother.”

“I take it he was not amongst them.”

Lirea shook her head. “No. I had … almost hoped … he had been with you.”

Alyna felt rage flash through her at the ignorant words. She couldn’t help but sound cold as she replied, “Be glad he wasn’t.”

Green eyes widened, but then gave her an apologetic nod. Lirea fidgeted with a lock of hair. “You and Sylvanas … seem to … be getting along … well …?”

The change of subject caught Alyna a little by surprise. She responded cynically. “You want to know if I still love her?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Anything positive like love was tortured or stripped out of me.”

Lirea seemed prepared for the answer somehow. “You feel something though. What I saw between you before I realised it was you … you’re close.”

Alyna grudgingly conceded, “I feel … a warmth. Being in her presence is …” She struggled for the right word. “Familiar.”

“You sound like you take some comfort in that.” Lirea looked nervous as she spoke her words.

Alyna thought she knew what was happening. Her sister was trying to convince herself that Alyna’s existence was more than the hell her imagination was telling her it was. She was about to bluntly refute the notion that anything about her circumstances was acceptable, but she stopped. A small voice told her it would cause unnecessary pain, which was something she almost laughed at. When did she care about causing pain? But, what would it cost her to be kind to the one living being who hadn’t judged her immediately on her state of undeath?

She was also right. Alyna was drawing comfort from Sylvanas.

“I suppose you could call it that.” The small voice inside her cheered distantly.

Her sister’s features relaxed slightly. “You two were always happiest together. I am glad you have each other still, despite the changes in you both.”

She gave her sister an awkward smile, and then found herself being drawn into a hug. This time, Lirea didn’t pull away though she still tensed slightly at her lack of warmth. Alyna admired her sister’s strength. This was not easy for her, she knew, but she had always had the biggest heart in the family. Tentatively, because she knew her sister needed it, she loosely completed the hug.

When she pulled away, Lirea had tears in her eyes. Alyna reached up to wipe them away. “I’m sorry this hurts you. I tried to avoid it.”

Lirea laughed softly. “It hurts to see you like this, I won’t deny that. But I’m crying because I’m happy, Alyna. I have my big sis back.”

Alyna frowned slightly. “You … want to see me again?”

The priestess gave her a hopeful look. “Would that be okay? I know this war won’t make it a frequent thing but … I … please?”

She didn’t know what to say to her sister. She also didn’t fully understand why Lirea would want to have anything to do with her. Did she really understand the kind of creature Alyna was? The things she had done, and would do? Or was she just underestimating her sister so she didn’t have to deal with the complication of having a living relative?

Not sure how Sylvanas was going to react to the decision, Alyna gave Lirea a brief nod. “I am agreeable to seeing you again, though I cannot say when. I am heading back to the Howling Fjord.”

She was pulled back into another hug that was so fierce she was glad she had no need for air. She allowed it, and attempted to return it again. In time, they said their goodbyes and Alyna left to return to her duty, uncertain if she had just done the right thing.

* * *

Sylvanas could hear the male voices arguing as she walked down the corridor to her throne room, and it made her increasingly angry with each step. As she reached the heavy closed doors, she threw them open with enough force she knew one of them would need to be repaired. The sound of them slamming back against the stone caused the two before her to stop and gaze at her in shock.

Nathanos Blightcaller gave his queen a deep bow. “Welcome home, my Lady.”

“Dark Lady!” The dreadlord Varimathras was slower to recover. He turned his large demonic bulk towards her and bowed, giant wings twitching. “We were not expecting you.”

She glared at her majordomo, the demon now towering above her. “That much was very clear.” She took in both of them as she stepped up to her throne. “What the hell are you two doing? I could hear you from the canal!”

The two males did not look at each other, which just confirmed to Sylvanas they still did not get along. Her two senior aids had vied for her favour continuously over the years, though this was the first time she had heard them get into such a loud confrontation.

As Varimathras was technically the senior of the two, he stepped forward. “Your _Champion_ ,” he started, using the word with obvious distaste, “has been redirecting resources you have allocated towards the war effort, Dark Lady. He objected to my intervention.”

She looked towards Nathanos to give him permission to speak.

“To make those resources better so they can be of more use to you, my Lady,” he clarified.

If she were alive, she knew she’d be getting a headache about now. “What resources are we talking about, Nathanos?”

To her surprise, he actually looked somewhat excited as he started to explain his idea. “I have managed to identify some promising recruits amongst the Forsaken forces in the second and third waves of your attack. Recruits who I know I can turn into rangers if given time.”

She wasn’t quite sure she heard her champion correctly. “You want to teach undead humans how to use dark ranger arts?”

“Yes, my Lady,” he confirmed with confidence.

Sylvanas felt her eyes flash with her anger. Her dark rangers were hers, and no one was about to add humans to her sisterhood.

“No.”

Nathanos looked surprised. “N …? But, my Lady? They could be an invaluable resource.”

“They already are doing what they’re doing, Nathanos. I have enough dark rangers to do my bidding, and I am not prepared to accept less than the best for their ranks.”

“These are the best though. I have selected them myself!”

She sneered at him. “For how long, Nathanos? At the rate of decay the human Forsaken suffer, they would be viable for a year or two before they would have to be replaced. Even _you_ have commented on your slowing dexterity and strength, and your decline is not as swift as theirs.” She gestured at the former Ranger Lord. “You know how long it takes to train even a highly gifted human to the level required to be a ranger. You would not have enough time.” She shook her head to end the subject. “I require the archers you train, and nothing more at this time.”

With obvious difficulty, Nathanos bowed his head, “I understand, Dark Lady. With your permission, I will get back to their training.”

She waved him away as a dismissal and turned to Varimathras. He had been quiet, but smug. “When I leave you in charge of my city, I expect you to do so without making your business public.”

It wiped the smug grin from his grizzled face at least. “It will not happen again, Dark Lady.”

“How are the preparations going for the second wave?”

“They are ahead of schedule. Your choice for the new Grand Executor was inspired. She has performed beyond my expectations.”

It was difficult to tell when the dreadlord was genuinely impressed with anything as it happened so rarely, but he did seem to believe his words.

“Good. I will be remaining until they are ready to launch.” She turned to move into her office before stopping to give her majordomo a few orders. “Have my Grand Executor summoned to my office, and summon my chief ambassador. The four of us need to re-evaluate a few things.” She gestured towards the doors. “And get those fixed.”

“Of course, Dark Lady.”

He bowed as she left, but she could feel his gaze on her back. She was back early, and his power was now second to hers.

_As it should be,_ she thought. She had given the dreadlord a lot of freedom of late considering her multiple absences. It was time she caught up on what he had been up to in that time. He had not given her cause to distrust him, but he was a dreadlord, and she had bent him to her will. If she was in his position, the moment she sensed weakness she would strike.

It was time to remind him who was queen of the Forsaken.


	21. Chapter 21

_Ten weeks later…_

The huge stone giant swung the uprooted tree at the dark rangers. Despite its size, it could move quickly, and not all of the rangers managed to get out of the way. One was hit squarely in the back as she tried to run, and was hurled viciously through the air. She hit another tree so hard the trunk split, before she crumpled onto the ground.

“Alyna!” cried Areiel. “Do something!”

“I need time!” she shouted back. “Distract it and I’ll freeze it!”

Alyna could hear her captain swearing from forty feet away. She wasn’t about to stand still and channel a spell as the giant bore down on her, so she knew Areiel would take her suggestion on board. On cue, arrows began bouncing off the creature’s stone chest. While harmless, it had the desired effect and it began stomping towards Areiel and the fourth ranger present.

Drawing on her energy reserves, Alyna stood and began to channel a frost beam at the giant. Being as large as they were, it took a considerable amount of energy to freeze it, and this was the fourth one in two hours. Making matters worse, they weren’t even meant to be this far west, so they hadn’t come prepared for them.

Eventually, the giant was fully frozen and Areiel finished it off with an explosive arrow. Alyna felt a twinge through her body and knew she would need to feed soon. She looked around for Alaana, and realising she had not got up from being thrown into the tree, she trotted over to her form. As she got closer, she could see why.

“Shit,” she muttered, kneeling down next to her ranger.

Alaana was conscious and looking at her. “That good, L.T?” She pronounced the abbreviation of her rank as ‘El Tee’.

“We’ll have to get you back to base,” she replied.

“Out of the question,” said Areiel as she approached the pair, Minea trailing behind her. “We have a mission to complete.”

Alyna moved aside so Areiel could get a good look at Alaana. “Her back is broken, Captain. In several places.”

The captain’s red eyes glowed angrily for a moment. “We don’t have time for this.” She looked in the direction they were meant to be heading, and then back over her shoulder to where they had been. Finally, she looked at Alyna. “The Dark Lady ordered Gjalerbron to be scouted before her arrival in a few days, so we don’t have time to take Alaana back to Vengeance Landing.”

Alyna shook her head slightly, “We can’t leave her here. We’re too close to Gjalerbron and a patrol could find her.”

“If that’s what it takes to complete the mission, L.T., I’m willing to risk it,” said Alaana.

Alyna scowled at Alaana. “I will not give any dark ranger to the Scourge.” She turned to look at Areiel, practically challenging her to pull rank.

The captain glared at her before relenting. “If anyone has any fresh ideas, now is a good time for them.”

No one said anything. Alyna had an idea, but she wasn’t fond of it. She knew Areiel was not going to give up on the scout, as it would be the captain who would take the brunt of Sylvanas’ displeasure if they failed. Part of her thought that was part of being a captain – knowing when to retreat, take the blame, and learn from the failure. While their problems with giants had been unforeseen, she could have brought more rangers as Alyna had suggested before they left, instead of keeping it to a minimum.

Since no other ideas came forward, her need to not let Sylvanas down overrode her misgivings.

“The taunka village, Camp Winterhoof, is not as far as Vengeance Landing. They’ve allied themselves with the Horde and should accept Alaana while we finish the mission. We can collect her on the way back.” The taunka were the last people Alyna wanted to see, but it was that or failure.

Areiel appeared to consider the idea. “We’d still lose a couple of days. The report would not be complete.” She looked directly at Alyna. “Unless someone goes ahead and gets started.”

Alyna frowned. “I feel I’m too drained for a solo mission, Captain. I need to feed.”

The ranger-captain shook her head. “You’re still the best choice. It’s that, or we leave Alaana here.”

Alyna grit her teeth angrily. It was risk herself, or risk Alaana. It wasn’t even a choice, and Areiel knew it. The captain had constantly put her in similar positions over the past few weeks, and it was starting to annoy her. She knew if she stopped leading from the front and started putting her rangers in danger when there was another way, she would lose their respect. Officers who couldn’t command respect, were demoted. Areiel had denounced Talnia, but it seemed she had not forgiven Alyna for bringing down a fellow captain.

She pulled a map out from under her jerkin and spread it out on the ground. She traced a line with her finger as she spoke. “The aerial scouts have seen a new mineshaft open on this eastern flank of the mountain Gjalerbron is built into. I can start scouting around it, and then move higher to the north-eastern terrace. I can wait for you there without drawing attention.”

The ranger-captain nodded her agreement. “Fine. We’ll be as fast as we’re able.”

Knowing she had been effectively dismissed, Alyna gathered her map and left her sisters to get Alaana to safety. She had several hours of travel before she reached her destination, and she needed to make sure she didn’t spend any more energy than necessary

The name of the mountain Gjalerbron was built into was Gjalerhorn, and it took the rest of the day for her to get there unseen by the various vrykul patrols. As she didn’t want to drain herself unnecessarily, Alyna found herself using more conventional methods of stealth instead of the shadows, resulting in some very startled local wildlife as she hid in bushes, climbed trees, and even crawled into a hollow log. It all added to her frustration as the delays mounted.

Eventually, she was working her way up the Gjalerhorn. The lower slopes provided plenty of cover, but as she climbed higher the trees gave way to rock, snow and ice. She could no longer avoid using her abilities. Sighing to herself, she drew one of her swords and called to the shadows. Unseen, she began to jump, leap and climb any exposed rock she could find so as not to leave prints in the snow. When that became impossible, she moved to the main path winding up the mountain. She had wanted to avoid the path due to the occasional passage of small creatures known as snobolds. While humanoid, they were distinctly rat-like in appearance, and of low intelligence. It also meant their survival instincts were highly attuned, and if she got too close she knew she would be sensed through her stealth.

The path itself had been kept clear of deep snow, though what remained had been trampled, and in some places, had frozen to ice. Every time she took a step, she could hear a faint squeaking noise as she further compacted it with her weight. Thankfully, she wasn’t leaving any prints as she kept ascending the mountain with cold precision, her sword ready should any of the snobolds detect her presence. Killing one would be a last resort as she had nowhere to hide the body, and she had no desire to alert the mountain to her presence.

She reached the mining plateau just as the last rays of sun disappeared over the horizon, and moved off to the side to evaluate the scene. There was a single sizable tent set up with a fire just outside. Though she couldn’t see through the entrance, she could just make out a group of silhouettes moving around inside that appeared to be vrykul. She tried to move her position slightly. There were obstacles inside the tent that were not allowing her an accurate count as shadows moved and disappeared. She figured there were between three and six.

The short snobolds were entering and exiting the mine at fairly regular intervals, the cold weather having no obvious effect on them. Their main chore appeared to be removing debris from inside the mine. She knew the creatures were subterranean in nature, so they were useful and skilled miners. She did find it curious that no vrykul were assisting, though perhaps they only did so by day.

She knew she was going to have to try and get into the mine if she could. Since the vrykul king had been found, no new mine tunnels had been opened until this one. Sylvanas had tasked Areiel with finding out why. With great care, Alyna moved towards the entrance, being careful to avoid the snobold.

Her hopes of an easy scout were dashed when she peered around the corner and only saw an almost pitch-black tunnel. She swore to herself. She had already timed the snobold’s coming and goings and she had about a minute after the next one left. She decided to see how far she could get in fifteen seconds, and then retreat. She waited for a snobold to trudge out, and then dove in. The moment she passed through the entrance she felt a strange sensation pass over her, telling her there was some kind of magic being used. The tunnel moved down a short way and then appeared to level out, blocking her view as the only light she could see was out of sight. She moved towards it swiftly, and then stopped near the lantern, unable to understand what she was seeing.

Where there should have been numerous snobolds hacking away at the rock with pickaxes and other tools, there was just one half-heartedly scraping at the surface and gathering the fallen debris.

Realising her mistake, Alyna turned to run back up the tunnel.

She did not get far. A wave of frost magic came rolling down the tunnel and she had no time to react, running right into it. She felt it rapidly wrap around her and slow her movements until she was stuck. She tried to struggle against it, but it held her tightly. If she had been living, she would be suffocating. Closing her eyes, she tried to draw on her magic reserves to try and shatter the ice block that had encased her, but she was too weak. Even worse, the magic around her was now draining what precious reserves she had left. She could feel herself getting weaker, and weaker.

A low laugh vibrated through the ice block. The ice was distorting the world outside it, but she didn’t need to see it clearly. She knew who stood outside.

“So predictable,” came Keleseth’s gloating words. “Did you enjoy the stone giants? They’re easily manipulated I found. Just as you are.” He laughed. “Oh, but where are my manners?”

The ice around her shattered and she fell to the dirt floor. She felt large, strong hands grabbing her arms and shoulders. She tried to fight back, but she knew it was not going to get anywhere. Metal manacles were clamped onto her wrists, and she winced as she felt the magical dampening field they emitted pulse through her. She looked down to see small runes inscribed into them.

“Pitiful,” Keleseth spat in disgust. “Such a thing should never be able to bind you. Yet, here you are.” He grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. “You’re weak. You deny your true nature even now, as you have for years. As you did when you were alive. The power you could have wielded with that runeblade if you had just committed to being a magister would have been beyond most alive, and yet you persisted in your ranger fantasy.” He roughly pushed her away, and she glared angrily at him. “You were the first of us, and you should have been our queen if you had just accepted the gifts he gave you. Your denial will be your undoing.” He turned to start walking up the tunnel. “I’ll be rewarded handsomely for bringing you in.”

“At least I forge my own destiny, Keleseth,” she managed to say through her exhaustion. “You’re a pawn, no matter how much power he gives you.”

He turned and laughed. “Tell me, _sister_ , how are you forging your own destiny now, hrm?” He gave the vrykul holding her a hard look. “Bring her. There’s no need to be gentle.”

Thick arms pressed under her armpits and she was bodily dragged up the tunnel. She wanted to hope Areiel was nearby, but she realised all that would result in was their deaths. Drained and powerless, she stopped struggling and hoped she could find someway to escape before the Lich King got hold of her.

* * *

_Five days later …_

“So, this is Northrend.”

Sylvanas turned to regard the serious woman beside her, having just disembarked from the _Windrunner_ at Vengeance Landing. Her former friend had changed much over the years. Having had a crisis of faith after the fall of Silvermoon, Liadrin had taken up arms and founded the blood elf paladin order, the Blood Knights. Her heavy silver armour glowed in places that had been infused with the Light, meaning Sylvanas could not stand too close to her even if she chose to.

“Disappointed?” she asked the paladin.

Green eyes turned to fix themselves confidently on Sylvanas. “You know I am here under protest, Sylvanas. My knights and I are still needed on Quel’Danas.”

“Your opinion will change once you see what is happening here.” Sylvanas abruptly left Liadrin at the foot of the gangway, ending the conversation. They’d had the same exchange a few times during the voyage, and she had tired of the stubborn woman. She regretted insisting Liadrin sail with her instead of with the sin’dorei vessel that was currently docking that held the rest of her people, and their horses. The paladins would be under her command for a few weeks at least, and she had wanted to make sure Liadrin understood their goals.

The queen needed to rid herself of the built-up frustration, and there was one woman she knew could help with that. She made her way over to the ranger barracks.

“Lady Sylvanas!” The queen turned to find Kyala trotting over to her. There was something about her demeanour that immediately put Sylvanas on alert. She waited for her to approach. “My Lady, we need to talk, please.”

Narrowing her eyes, she followed her agent towards one of the towering exterior walls of the base. Kyala looked around, particularly towards the ranger barracks, before looking at Sylvanas. The queen realised she appeared scared.

“Alyna is … missing, my Lady.”

“She is WHAT?” Sylvanas took a step towards her agent as her anger threatened to overwhelm her senses, and Kyala stood back, raising her hands defensively.

“Please, let me explain!” The queen didn’t move, and Kyala took that as a good sign. “Areiel took Alyna, Alaana and Minea on a mission to scout that new tunnel above Gjalerbron. Alaana was injured in an attack and couldn’t continue, so Areiel and Minea took her to a taunka village after sending Alyna onwards. She didn’t show up at their rendezvous.”

Sylvanas tried hard not to seriously harm her messenger. “Did they not look for her?”

Kyala nodded rapidly. “Areiel said they did and that they found no signs of a struggle.”

“What are you not saying, Kyala?”

Her agent opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she said, “Areiel is saying the only explanation is that Alyna is a traitor, and that she handed herself back to the Scourge.”

The words hit Sylvanas like a physical blow. Could it be true? Areiel was a highly competent ranger, as befitting her rank. If Alyna had been taken by force, she would have found something to follow, surely? Alyna had been a vital source of information as Sylvanas and the Horde leaders had planned the invasion of Northrend. There was very little she didn’t know, and if she told the Lich King their plans they would be swiftly defeated. A feeling of dread solidified in the pit of her stomach as she realised Alyna had been perfect. The timing of when she had been dropped into her territory, the knowledge she had, the invaluable skills she possessed that made sure Sylvanas kept her on the front lines.

 _No!_ she thought. Alyna was loyal. She _had_ to be. Everything she had been through to be part of the Forsaken could not have been an act. As changed as they both were, she knew Alyna would not have put herself through that for the Lich King. Her hatred was genuine; her desire for revenge was real. And ultimately, Sylvanas refused to believe the deep connection they had forged the past few months was a lie.

“Where is Areiel?” she heard herself ask without emotion.

Kyala pointed at the barracks. Sylvanas strode towards them. As soon as she strode through the door, her rangers fell into silence. She looked around and saw Areiel already moving towards her. Sylvanas took two steps towards the woman before she raised her knee and kicked Areiel hard enough in the chest to send her flying backwards. She collapsed onto a pair of chairs, breaking them in the process. She didn’t have a chance to stand up as Sylvanas grabbed her jerkin and yanked her up instead.

“Where is she?” the queen asked frostily.

Areiel knew better than to try and fight back. “I don’t know! We looked for her but found nothing!”

“And you thought it was a good idea to send a ranger to scout an enemy fortress alone? Against my standing order that no ranger is to do anything without support?”

“It was that or fail the mission, Dark Lady! You made it clear the report was needed and I did not wish to displease you! I thought she could get it done.” Despite being in the banshee queen’s grip, Areiel was surprisingly calm.

Her captain’s confidence in her words only served to solidify the feeling of dread in the queen’s stomach. Still, she refused to believe Alyna would have betrayed her. “Do you think _this_ pleases me?”

Areiel’s boldness continued. “With respect, my Lady, I fear you may not be seeing this clearly because Alyna is involved.”

Sylvanas pulled the woman closer and couldn’t help the angry snarl. The problem was, Areiel was right. She would always be biased when it came to Alyna. For very good reason.

“I am going to where you lost her, Areiel. And if I find anything that you could have followed or have failed to tell me, you will be seeing Talnia sooner than you thought.” She released Areiel as she almost gently asked, “Is that understood?”

The ranger-captain hesitated slightly, but then gave her a nod. “Yes, Dark Lady.”

“Is there anything else you wish to tell me about what happened?”

“No, Dark Lady.”

Sylvanas glared at her for a few moments before she turned to look at the assembled rangers. “Kyala, Minea, you’ll be coming with me. I require three more volunteers.”

To her pleasure, there was no shortage of volunteers to look for Alyna. Despite her own bias, she realised that few believed Alyna had turned traitor. Now she just hoped she could find her.

* * *

Sylvanas wasted no time in getting to the Gjalerhorn. Instead of riding there as the original team had, she had them fly to Camp Winterhoof, and jog from there. She had no care for the obvious discomfort the taunka showed at having to cater to their large bats and the Forsaken in general. They did inform her though that there had been localised blizzards around the Gjalerhorn until a couple of days ago and they were to be aware of the potential avalanche conditions. The strange incursion of the stone giants had also stopped.

As Minea guided them along the route Areiel’s team had taken, she told Sylvanas what she knew.

“When we reached the Gjalerhorn, it was in the middle of a blizzard. There wasn’t any activity on the path up, so Areiel took us straight up since the blizzard would cover our tracks.” Sylvanas nodded her agreement. The decision made sense. “But there was nothing when we got to the top. The reports had said there was an open mine and a large tent, but we only found a cold firepit and a collapsed mine.” She gave her queen a wary glance. “That was a week ago, my Lady.”

Sylvanas ignored the fear she felt for Alyna at what could have happened to her in such a time. She was still hoping she was stuck somewhere waiting to be rescued. What Minea was hinting at was clear though. The ranger did not expect to find anything after so many days had passed. She didn’t care what Minea thought though. Sylvanas had been the best ranger of her generation, and she had to see the site for herself.

As they stood at the bottom of the path, she could see the snow was pristine. Since the last blizzard cleared over two days ago, Sylvanas felt confident they could disturb the snow in relative peace, and she led the way up the long, winding path. When they reached the plateau, she spread her rangers out defensively to watch for intruders, and she took Kyala and Minea with her to investigate the scene. It was exactly how Minea had described it. The entrance to the mineshaft had been collapsed, and the firepit lay cold.

As Sylvanas stared at the pile of rubble before the entrance, she asked, “When was the last aerial scout of this place?”

Kyala, prepared as she always was, replied, “Two weeks ago. Areiel sent them out to confirm the mine was still active before she signed off on the mission.”

The queen knelt down at the mostly buried firepit. “So, was the camp struck before or after Alyna was here?”

“Captain Areiel came to the conclusion it must have been before, my Lady,” reported Minea.

Sylvanas looked up at her ranger. “Based on what?”

“Based on what you see. Nothing here has been disturbed.”

“So the blizzard was already in effect when Alyna got here?”

Minea appeared confused for a moment before she glanced around. When she looked back at her queen, she was clearly uncertain. “I don’t know. There were definitely no storm clouds above the peak when we turned back to the taunka. I can’t tell you when the blizzard started, my Lady.”

Sylvanas swore. She started clearing the powdered snow along the side of the firepit the tent had been reported to be on. It cleared easily, and despite being several inches deep it didn’t take her long to get down to the compacted snow and ice beneath. Within seconds, she then began to see footprints. She gave Minea a pointed look, and the ranger could not hold her glare.

“Clear the snow off this damn plateau.” She stood, expecting her order to be followed and called for two more of her rangers as she strode to the mine entrance. She pointed at it and demanded, “Clear the rubble. I want to see what’s inside.” Part of her hoped Alyna was trapped beyond the rock, but her cynical side knew that would be too easy.

“My Lady,” started a ranger, “this could be meters deep.”

Sylvanas turned to give her an angry, red scowl. Both rangers immediately began clearing the rubble. If it was that deep and it took them all day, then so be it. She was not leaving the site until she knew everything there was to know about it.

As it was, both tasks took a few hours with the snow being cleared first. The queen knelt down near the top of the path. The ground was a mess of footprints, with very small ones making up the majority of them. With great care and attention, she was able to see that the uppermost prints were larger. Several large sets with a slightly smaller set, she realised. Vrykul, she surmised. And something else. Something more … elf-sized. She took a closer look at those prints and knew they were slightly too big to be Alyna’s. What she could see though were long grooves intermittently spaced.

Kyala’s voice came from behind. “My Lady, the mine is open enough for you to go through, though I would exercise caution. It is likely unstable.”

The queen rose smoothly and gave her agent a nod. “I’m sure you will dig me out if it were to collapse.”

Kyala gave her a small smile as she escorted her queen to the mine entrance. “Of course, my Lady.”

Her rangers had done a good job, and it wasn’t as tight a squeeze as she expected as she slipped through the narrow opening they had created. A lit torch was passed through to her, and she held it up. The tunnel was barely high enough for a grown vrykul, and was angled down for the first few meters. She didn’t expect any trouble, but she drew a sword regardless and moved further into the mine. As she got to the bottom of the incline, she frowned at the sight.

She had expected a tunnel that had been active for as long as her scouts had told her to be much deeper, but it ended right before her. This wasn’t a cave in or intentional collapse either. Right by the solid wall, was a dead snobold. She tilted her head in confusion. It was half-encased in ice, with much larger chunks of ice scattered around the immediate area. She knelt down to examine the blocks, and saw the dirt had similar grooves going up the tunnel to what she had seen outside.

Sylvanas pinched the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t be certain what had happened, but her instincts told her Alyna had walked into a trap, and had been dragged out. By the looks of the grooves, she even thought Alyna had intentionally dug her toes or heels in to create them.

 _That’s my girl,_ she thought as she stood. She hated the thought of Alyna being a prisoner, but now she had something to go on and she felt a cold determination fill her being. She was going to find Alyna.

Knowing what she had to look for now, she made her way back up the tunnel. As she reached the top, something caught her eye along one of the walls, and she held the torch up. Faintly carved into the rock and dirt was a burnt-out rune. She didn’t know what it meant, but by its state she knew it was spent. She passed the torch out through the entrance and then followed.

Kyala looked at her hopefully as Sylvanas walked over to the top of the path and called in her rangers from their posts. She looked at each of them, before pointing at the grooves uncovered earlier. “Alyna has been taken by vrykul. These are the tracks she has left for us to follow. I don’t care how much snow you have to clear – we _will_ find her.”

A chorus of agreement and affirmation passed through her rangers. Minea looked slightly sick. Kyala looked very determined.

The grooves didn’t last much beyond the bottom of the path, but by now there were other signs emerging that allowed the skilled trackers to be able to follow the kidnappers. As the snow cleared, their task became easier. They followed the trail south, and just when Sylvanas thought it was going to lead to the vrykul town of Skorn, it skirted around the town towards the lake.

After over a day of tracking, it led them to the edge of the lake and a small jetty. Sylvanas felt her hopes sink. She could see a jetty on the other side of the lake with a sizable skiff tied up to it. What made her soul ache was the realisation of where Alyna had been taken.

Utgarde Keep.

* * *

_Three days later …_

Sylvanas leant heavily against her planning table. She was back onboard the _Windrunner_ , and she was close to giving in to something she felt was despair. The first thing she had done when they had arrived back a few hours ago was to imprison Areiel. The next was to call her senior advisors to formulate a plan to invade Utgarde Keep. They had all agreed it was not possible to launch an assault on such a heavily guarded position with the resources they had.

_You can’t rescue Alyna._

_You’ve failed her, again._

She felt her legs give way as the thoughts repeated themselves over and over in her head, the table leg now supporting her body as she slumped to the floor.

She heard the knocking on her cabin door, but ignored it. That apparently didn’t sit well when the knocker, as the door opened, and then closed. Heavy boots slowly walked towards her.

“Well, this is not quite the image of the Banshee Queen I’m used to,” came the mocking words of Liadrin.

Her reply was sullen. “I don’t particularly give a fuck about what you’re used to.”

She heard an amused snort. “Well, some things never change.” The boots paced slightly. Liadrin’s voice was softer when she eventually spoke again. “I heard what happened. I … came to offer my help.”

Sylvanas finally raised her head and laughed humourlessly. “I suppose with the Light on our side we can’t _possibly_ fail.”

The blood knight matriarch put her hands on her hips. “There’s no need to be rude.”

“Rude?” Sylvanas slowly stood and gestured at the keep on her map. “My advisors tell me it’s impossible to breach the keep with the army I have at my disposal, and you come in here thinking your help will make all the difference?”

“If you want rude, I’ll give you rude.” Liadrin strode up to the table, removed her plate gauntlets and slammed them down on the map. “What makes you think she is even still rescuable? It’s been long enough for her to be one of them again!”

The queen whirled on the blood knight angrily. “Even if she _is_ one of them she is worth saving!”

Liadrin raised a rusty-red eyebrow. Her next words were quiet. “Let me help you.”

“How?” Sylvanas demanded.

The matriarch shrugged slightly. “Being a paladin means I have made contacts amongst the Alliance paladins, particularly through what happened on Quel’Danas. I have intelligence to suggest the Alliance managed to get into the catacombs beneath the keep, and blow a hole up into it. By accident, supposedly, but it’s a way in. For a small force.”

The stunned queen found herself staring. “A handful against an entire keep of vrykul? I was wrong about you, Liadrin. You’re not egotistical … you’re fucking _insane_.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you.”

Sylvanas felt herself slump back against the table again. She just didn’t have it in her to rage against the infuriating woman. She had let Alyna get close to her, knowing she could become a casualty. This was the consequence of it.

Unexpectedly, Liadrin reached forward and tapped the queen’s ring finger though the leather gauntlet she wore. “You still wear it. I can sense the Light in the ring.” Instinctively Sylvanas pulled her hand away. Liadrin chuckled. “I helped make them, Sylvanas. Don’t even think of denying it.”

“Is there a point to your badgering?” she asked in annoyance.

“Perhaps.” She could see Liadrin give her a curious look. “Did you ever have the chance to tell Alyna what they do?”

Something akin to wariness passed through the queen’s body as she slowly looked up at Liadrin. “No. There wasn’t time when we … exchanged rings. And then … I … forgot.”

Red eyebrows nearly shot off the top of Liadrin’s forehead in surprise. “You _forgot_? How could you forget such a thing?”

“Determination, regret and a broken heart,” murmured Sylvanas as she held her own hand. “It also helps that I cannot trigger it myself. It was easy to forget.”

Liadrin shook her head slightly. “Of course. Because you’re dead. That would prevent you from triggering it, yes.”

She went quiet, and Sylvanas grew suspicious. When their eyes met, Sylvanas knew what Liadrin was about to do. “No. Don’t you _dare_!”

“You’ll thank me later,” came the calm words.

Sylvanas started to slide along the table, away from the paladin. She knew her voice had a faint tremor in it. “Liadrin, I swear, if you do this I will make sure you know no end to your suffering!”

“It’ll only hurt for a moment. I … think.” Liadrin shrugged and made a gesture with her hand towards Sylvanas.

Pain immediately seared through the queen’s ring finger and she gasped, holding her hand to her chest, as the Light burnt her undead form. The pain was not brief, but it was overwhelmed by what came next.

The engagement rings had been forged to absorb some of the essence of the wearer. When the rings were united to form the wedding band, the essence of the lover was also sealed within it. What Sylvanas had not had a chance to tell Alyna, was that it was not just the essence that was absorbed, but emotion as well. Emotions that could be triggered. It had meant to combat their loneliness during their time apart while Alyna trained on Quel’Danas.

Now, the love Alyna had held for Sylvanas at the moment they fused their rings was coursing through the queen, along with her unwavering trust and loyalty.

Sylvanas fell to her knees and felt herself curling into herself. It was too much for her to bear and she cried out, though it sounded more like a sob to her ears. Everything Arthas had taken from her, from Alyna, was painfully obvious and she hated him for it. She needed Alyna more than anything, and now she was not here. She felt another sob shudder through her, and as the feelings subsided, she knew she was shaking. She wiped her face with the back of her gauntlet and was slightly surprised to see her arm come away covered in a black, slightly congealed liquid – her rarely shed version of tears.

Liadrin spoke softly, but firmly, “Are those the feelings of a woman who would _ever_ give up on you, Sylvanas?”

“Fuck you,” she shot back.

“Do you want my help, or not?”

The queen was still kneeling on the floor cradling her hand. She was probably going to need a healer for the deep wound she knew was there. A wound that would pale compared to the one left if she couldn’t get Alyna back.

She was angry at what Liadrin had done, but she eventually replied, “I will only take volunteers. I won’t order anyone onto a suicide mission of this nature.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” said the blood knight casually. “I already spread the word and all of your rangers and most of my paladins are waiting outside on the main deck. I did consider offering the mission to your dreadguard as well, but I thought that would have been a bit overkill, don’t you think?”

Sylvanas had no words and finally raised her black-streaked face to stare dumbfounded at the highly amused paladin.

The red-head gestured at the map with a wide grin. “Shall we get to work?”


	22. Chapter 22

_One day after capture …_

Alyna was dropped unceremoniously onto the stone floor of what she assumed was part of the keep’s dungeons. She ignored Keleseth as his brown boots came into view, which irked him enough to grab her hair to force her to look at him.

“The Lich King is prepared to offer you power beyond your imagination.” He made a sound of disgust before adding, “Again. The ridiculous army you don’t even lead would pale in comparison to the countless at your command if you returned to the Scourge's embrace.”

She felt his grip in her hair tighten, and she managed a slight sneer. “Jealous?”

He slammed her head back onto the stone, which she barely felt due to being undead. She realised he was more used to toying with the living than their own kind.

“The choice is yours, _sister_. One way or another, you will serve. It’s just a matter of how easy you make it for yourself.” Alyna snarled, but held her tongue. She knew her only hope of escaping was to draw out whatever Keleseth had planned. He laughed. “I’ll take your silence as a no. I was very much hoping you’d decline his offer.”

He stood, and she felt the same hands that had dragged her from the Gjalerhorn start pulling her leathers off her body. The manacles around her wrists were split, and attached to a pair of chains hanging from the ceiling. She was strung up until her feet did not touch the floor. Only then did she see the last person she ever thought to see again.

Ra’thanar Windrunner stepped forward and looked her naked body up and down. “At least my granddaughter has a good eye.”

Alyna shook with fury. “Betraying family was not enough for you? Now you betray your people? Your soul?”

“In that … I had no choice. But I cannot say I do not enjoy my new power.”

As he stepped closer, she managed to take in more details. His black eyes, pale necrotic skin, and her own realisation that she could not hear a heartbeat. She shook her head in disbelief. “How? How can you be darkfallen and I didn’t know?”

He scoffed. “As if someone of my considerable ability would be a lowly darkfallen. I’m San’layn. And, since you have so foolishly declined the Prince’s offer, I will be your replacement on the Council.”

Something about Ra’thanar’s ambition must have rankled with Keleseth as he felt the need to say, “He was not hidden from you. His body was recently found frozen in the ice where he died as a coward.” That earned him an angry glare from Ra’thanar, but he appeared to be mindful of Keleseth’s position and did not reply. The prince gestured at Alyna. “Make sure she’s prepared. I will leave you to it.”

Ra’thanar gave the prince a slight bow as he left with the vrykul, leaving him alone with Alyna. He turned to regard her, his smile hard.

She chuckled. “I quite enjoy the thought of you dying disgraced and alone.”

His smile disappeared, and he raised his hand to cast a spell. She felt the curse immediately wrap itself around what was left of her soul, and she screamed. The chains rattled as she struggled against the pain. When the spell subsided, Ra’thanar stood before her. In his hands he had something long, wrapped in dull cloth.

“The Lich King wants you completely drained before he arrives. How that happens … is up to you. I can make it a long, agonising affair. Or …” He pulled the cloth back to reveal Alyna’s lost runeblade, Felo’alaan. “… you can make me the blade’s new master and your draining will be less unpleasant.”

She stared at it in shock. “She gave it … to _you_?”

“You obviously could not be trusted with it seeing as your loyalty was far from secure, so I’m told.” He smiled. “The Blood Queen has no such doubts with me.”

Alyna shook her head. “The runeblade chooses its own master.”

Ra’thanar laughed. “Did Falcar fill your head with that rubbish? The idealistic fool. He probably thought if he told you that it would convince you to be his successor with less resistance than you were infamous for. The commoners also like such fanciful tales.”

“I … felt it bond though,” she murmured in confusion.

“Oh, you _are_ bonded to it. But it had nothing to do with the runeblade accepting you, and had everything to do with you finally accepting what it had to give you. And as the master of the runeblade, you can will it to accept a new master.”

She laughed, albeit weakly. He had told her two things he had most likely not intended to. Firstly, that her undead nature had not broken her bond to the runeblade somehow, and secondly, that whatever her fate was to be, the Lich King did not intend to have her soul destroyed. Ra’thanar needed her to give him the runeblade.

“Never,” she spat at him.

Angrily, he wrapped the runeblade up and glared at her. “Have it your way.” He raised his hand and murmured a few words before gesturing at her. The powerful curse took hold of her, and did not let go for a long, long time.

* * *

_Twelve days after capture …_

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump._

Alyna’s eyes flew open as she heard the heartbeat. The sclera of her eyes was now also black, and she scanned the room hungrily. He had kept the living from her. She was starving. She could smell blood. _Fresh blood._ Her mouth was salivating as she bared her much larger than normal fangs.

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thumpthumpthump. Thumpthumpthump._

Two hearts beating! She tried to get to them. The chains rattled. Her body flailed in the attempt; her body heavy. She looked up in confusion. She was bound? Why was she bound? She howled in rage and fought against the iron around her wrists. She could feel the magic in them, but it was weak.

Very weak.

She was so hungry.

She heard laughter. The heartbeats were closer. She looked down to see two male humans looking up at her. Dark robes. Pallid skin. They smelt of death, but were very much alive. _Cultists_ , came the word into her mind. It was a bad word. She didn’t know why.

“What did I tell you? It’s her,” cackled one to the other.

“She looks too pale. Are those wings? They’re massive!”

He got a slap from the first across the shoulder. “Of course she’s pale, you idiot. She’s dead now. She wasn’t before.” He looked at something beneath her. “Not sure about the wings.”

The second squinted at her, and then laughed. “I see it now.”

She had wings? She looked to where her feet would touch the floor if they could and saw the bottom of two dark leathery-wings as they hung down from her back. Her mind was sluggish as she tried to move them. She saw a twitch. They felt heavy.

She raised her head and watched as the humans talked. Their faces were familiar. Their heartbeats were faster. One tucked his hand into his robes near his groin. She heard only parts of their conversation over the constant _thump_ of their blood.

“We could lower her down? She’s too weak to fight us.”

The first looked at the chains, a cruel smile splitting his face. “Going to be just like old times, isn’t that right Alyna?” He moaned slightly as he pulled his hand from his robes.

She heard the moan. She knew it. Memories flashed through her starved mind. They hurt. She didn’t want them. She struggled. They laughed at her. Also familiar.

Then she knew who they were.

Rage flooded her body and she pushed her will against the magic in the manacles. It was weakening. It had not been renewed since her capture. More images tore at her mind.

_Thumpthumpthumpthump!_

As the runes on the manacles fizzled and burnt out, she roared at the now nervous humans. She pulled on her chains, raising herself through sheer fury, and she focused on the blood she could hear rushing through their veins.

And then she called to it.

Their screams delighted her as she pulled their life essence from their bodies. She felt stronger. She called for more. She was so very hungry. Her mind was clearing as they writhed on the ground, and the agony caused by her hunger began to subside. She could hear another sound and realised she was laughing as she felt one of them die under her assault.

“Enough!” cried Ra’thanar as he ran towards her. He must have cast another of his confounded curses because she was suddenly wracked with pain. It forced her to stop feeding.

When the curse subsided, she could see the still living human had been dragged away.

“That was careless, Ra’thanar,” came the very displeased tone of Keleseth. “She was almost ready.”

The confused Windrunner shook his head. “I don’t understand how she was able to feed.”

The prince looked at Ra’thanar like he would an insect. “She was born to be a queen, you fool. Just because she refuses to be one does not mean she’s not capable of sucking your soul right out of you even in her condition.” She could see Keleseth eyeing her warily before he grabbed Ra’thanar and they started walking away from her. She just about managed to hear, “Don’t go near her in case you piss her off enough to actually do that. Nothing, dead or alive, is to go near her, understood?”

She didn’t hear the reply.

She didn’t need to.

She just had to wait.

* * *

Sylvanas pressed herself against the pillar as a spear came hurtling past where her head had been.

“I think they know we’re here!” yelled Liadrin.

The queen gave her a stern look before turning to speak to the dark ranger beside her, Marrah. “Anything that can help on that side?”

The ranger peered around the stone pillar. She quickly rethought her action when another spear flew past. She looked at her queen and shook her head. Sylvanas took stock of their situation.

The four rangers and three paladins had been met by an elite Alliance group within the catacombs of the keep. Liadrin had struck a deal with her contacts – they had agreed to take them to the breach that led into the keep, if they could also send their own team along for their own mission. Sylvanas had seen no reason to refuse, hoping the Alliance group would create a distraction.

Things had gone well, to start with. They could hear fighting in other parts of the keep as the Alliance team were indeed spotted. They had made their way carefully through the keep to the dungeon they were now in. The corridor had numerous cells along it, but none had held Alyna, so they had kept going. It eventually led them to the large circular room they were now in. Four large stone columns helped to support the ceiling as various cells lined the perimeter. The centre held numerous pieces of furniture and tools she knew were meant for torture. It had also held two dozen heavily armed vrykul who now had them pinned behind two of the pillars, with a paladin and Kyala still in the corridor. The vrykul had concealed themselves in the cells until Sylvanas and her party had committed to the room.

The queen turned to get Liadrin’s attention. “They’ve got us pinned down, and they’re not advancing.”

The blood knight matriarch returned the gaze levelly. “It’s like they have us where they want us.”

Sylvanas had thought the same, but she could not see any traps or devices that could ensnare them. “We need to retreat.”

“Agreed,” came the tense reply. She glanced over her shoulder to the male elf at her side before turning back to the queen. “Rathe’an should be able to shield us as we pull back to the corridor, but it won’t get any easier from there.”

The queen regarded the matriarch. The vrykul were warriors, and while the rangers were agile they were not very effective in enclosed spaces like the corridor. The paladins wore heavy armour, and would be unable to run away as the rangers could. If they made a stand, the paladin’s presence was a barrier that would not last long with the sheer number of vrykul assaulting them. They would also be in the way of the bow-wielding rangers. The queen could not even use her powerful banshee wail as everything was so enclosed she would incapacitate her own rangers. She knew Liadrin expected Sylvanas to use the paladins as a delaying tactic to let her rangers, and herself, escape.

It was a valid tactic to the banshee queen if it meant she could get to Alyna, but something was wrong about the entire situation. She thought about what Alyna had told her about the vrykul, and what she had found at the mineshaft.

With some urgency she finally replied, “It won’t be enough. Look for runes!”

“Runes?” Liadrin frowned, and then understood.

The sound of a scream in the corridor cut off their plan. Before they had a chance to react, two elven bodies came hurtling out of the corridor. Their bodies slammed onto the stone floor and slid for a moment before coming to a halt. Neither Kyala or the female paladin moved, telling Sylvanas that at best they were unconscious.

Liadrin and Rathe’an raised their weapons and faced the door as Sylvanas, Marrah and Alaana unleashed their arrows into the corridor. Several vrykul stumbled out. Those who did not collapse were cut down by the two paladins. Another, healthier wave of vrykul followed and were also cut down by the trapped cohort.

As Sylvanas reached into her quiver, she pulled what she realised was her last arrow. She was good with her swords, but could not hope to continue for long against numerous human giants. She nocked her arrow, drew the string back, and began charging it with one of her shadow-based spells.

An eerily familiar voice laughed from just inside the corridor. “You can fire that arrow and collapse this doorway, Sylvanas, but your fate is sealed either way.” Ra’thanar Windrunner stepped forward into the dim light. “And you still wouldn’t kill me.”

Sylvanas was too stunned to fire immediately. Her hesitation cost her. Behind Ra’thanar, a female vrykul uttered a few words. Numerous stone slabs at the cohort’s feet began to glow faintly before the runes inscribed into them activated. The queen tried to move away, but found she couldn’t. None of them could. Calmly, her grandfather strolled over to her. Almost delicately, he removed her drawn arrow before he then wrenched her bow from her grip. As he did so, a small pendant he wore glowed slightly, presumably granting him immunity from the immobilisation spell. He tossed the bow to one of the vrykul who had been helping to keep the group pinned.

“Disarm them all,” he ordered before he faced Sylvanas, a victorious smirk creeping across his face. “Keleseth didn’t think you’d come, but I told him you would if given the slightest opportunity.” He looked her up and down, before laughing. “And here you are! You’re so _disgustingly_ predictable when it comes to that bitch.”

Sylvanas seethed as she fought against the magic containing her. She couldn’t believe she had walked into a trap. Part of her knew the Lich King would want to punish her for what he saw as her rebellion, but she had not expected such an elaborate scheme. Even worse, she had let Alyna down. She felt her rage building, her banshee nature threatening to overwhelm her.

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for a family reunion,” crowed Ra’thanar. “I can’t say I was surprised to find out what you had become, but you’ll be brought into line soon enough.”

Unable to contain it, Sylvanas released her banshee scream, the force of it pushing through the immobilisation magic just enough. Vrykul dropped to the floor in agony, all of them with bloodied ears as her cry reverberated off the stone and metal within the dungeon. She heard the restrained groans from the two paladins and her own rangers, and she felt slightly guilty for adding to their misery. What she did enjoy, was Ra’thanar’s cry of pain. He did not collapse as the living did, but she enjoyed his discomfort.

“You’ll pay for that,” he growled. He turned to a large vrykul stumbling to his feet. “Get the manacles on all of them. And gag them. I want no trouble from them as we take them to the portal.” He then sneered at the banshee queen. “You’ll pay for _everything_ you’ve done, Sylvanas. And then … you’ll serve.”

Sylvanas felt a shudder pass through her. She recognised it for what it was – fear.

* * *

Alyna’s eyes snapped open. It was quieter than she had ever heard it, but she would never forget the sound Sylvanas made when she released her banshee scream.

_Sylvanas is in the keep._

She had no idea how she had managed to get inside, but she knew the odds of her queen succeeding were slim.

Unless she helped.

Alyna looked up at the manacles. When she had broken the runes, it had weakened the metal. Either Keleseth had been unaware she had burnt out the magical bindings, or he was too scared of her to have them replaced. Regardless, his lapse in judgement had given her a distinct advantage. She had managed to take enough energy from the cultists to suit her purpose, and she now willed her magic into her hands.

Her hands grew impossibly cold, bringing the temperature of the air around them down. The cold slowly seeped into the manacles. When she thought she had weakened them enough, she drew on what strength she had and pulled herself up. When she was as high as she could raise herself, she relaxed. Her body dropped, her weight added to by her thick wings. As she reached her starting position, the manacles snapped with the strain and she collapsed onto the floor. She snarled and tried to untangle herself.

The noise of her breaking free had not gone unnoticed, and a pair of vrykul appeared at the entrance to what she had recognised was one of the sizable halls of the keep and not the dungeon. By the time they realised she was free, it was too late. She had heard their approach, and could almost taste their blood before she started drawing it from their bodies. She smiled with relief as she felt her hunger become less painful.

She managed to stand and stumble over to where her leathers had been left the day she had been stripped of them. It was not vanity that drove her. She knew she would need to fight, and any protection was better than none. Awkwardly, she pulled on her pants and boots, and then glared at the rest of her gear. After a moment, she took her cloak and began tearing strips from it. Her wings meant she could not use her jerkin, so she wrapped the strips around her chest instead. She decided to leave her bow and take her swords, not that she was going to let anything get near her.

Alyna looked around at the hall. While she knew the keep well, most of the halls looked alike so she could not immediately place where she was. She did know Sylvanas sounded as if she were below her position, which made sense. She figured her queen would have assumed Alyna would be in the dungeons, which were always near the bottom of such structures.

Her priority though … was to feed. Alyna smiled ferally as she started towards the door the two vrykul had appeared at. Their screams had got the attention of their comrades, but not one of them had had the courage to confront her. She could feel them all waiting. She was not going to keep them waiting any longer.

* * *

Alyna strode purposefully down the halls of the large keep. Any of the living who dared get in her way immediately became food. The undead compelled to stop her fell in purple flames. There had been no concerted effort to stop her, but she knew their undead masters would be aware of her escape. She would be met by a significant force soon enough.

 _Sylvanas_.

One of the vrykul had mentioned a trap for her queen. A gift for the Lich King. A trophy for Ra’thanar.

Alyna raged at the thought. No one was going to give Sylvanas to Arthas! She kept feeding, kept pulling the life and power from the vrykul who had once sworn their allegiance to her when she brokered their deal with their master.

She was _so_ hungry.

While she had seemingly starved herself before, she had never done so to this extent. The power thrilled her. It coursed through her being and made her feel invulnerable. Her wings and body were strong now, and in the high-ceilinged halls she flew up and then crashed down on her enemies. She enjoyed the feeling of their helplessness. She could taste their fear in their blood.

She had to have more!

If Ra’thanar was going to give Sylvanas to Arthas, there was only one place she knew he would do it from. There was a large circular grand hall in the middle of the keep with an impressive vaulted ceiling and ornate viewing balconies. Keleseth had favoured it greatly the last time Alyna had been in the keep, and she knew he had made it his domain. That was where the Scourge version of a portal, a death gate, to Icecrown Citadel had been anchored by her a few years ago.

It was on one of the balconies that she found herself. In the hall, she could see Ra’thanar channelling magic into a dark crystal to activate the death gate. Keleseth watched on. Alyna’s eyes fell onto the seven elves with manacles on their hands and feet. They all wore what appeared to be ball gags, including Sylvanas. Part of Alyna found that amusing. Filling the room were at least three dozen vrykul and vargul, and yet more ghouls, mainly facing the two entrances into the hall.

With a single beat of her wings, she leapt up onto the balustrade and threw a single, powerful bolt of frost at the crystal, shattering it. Ra’thanar leapt backwards, shouting his outrage as some of the shards flew at him.

Everyone was now looking up at her. She closed her eyes briefly. So many heartbeats. So many souls. And … something else. She smiled and held her clawed hand out. “You have something that belongs to me, Ra’thanar.” She did not shout her words, but she did not have to; the acoustics of the room ensured she was heard. From a pedestal near the central throne, an object vibrated under a cloth, before it flew towards Alyna. She grasped the handle of Felo’alaan.

And gasped in pain!

She felt the runeblade initially reject her, its purity at being forged by the draconic guardians of life at odds with her state of undeath. She held on though, and watched as the bright red blade darkened rapidly into a dark purple resembling her own shadowflame. The pain then disappeared as she felt its power add to the considerable amount she had recently consumed. She almost groaned at the pleasure she felt through it.

She was dimly aware of the two San’layn beneath her shouting as she was reunited with her runeblade. Bodies were moving around. Spears began to bounce off the magical shield she had erected around herself. A couple of lightning spells crackled around her futilely. The attacks felt feeble. Laughable.

She looked down at the clearly worried San’layn. “We need to talk, _brothers_. Without these … _distractions_.”

Holding Felo’alaan, Alyna launched herself from the balcony and flew up into the middle of the room so she could see every occupant. She reached down into her own core, where her power dwelled, and demanded more of it than she ever had before. As she surveyed her food below, she pushed her vision into the realm of the dead. The colours of the drapes, tiles and tapestries faded into greys, and she smiled. Inside every creature, alive and undead, she could see the white of their souls, with those of the living shining brighter. Part of her mind noted where Sylvanas and those with her stood as she focused on the rest.

She called to the souls, and when they resisted, she pulled, breaking their connection to the physical world. She felt them empower her as she consumed them.

She felt each white light die.

When she dropped to the floor, landing easily on her feet, the echoes of dozens of screams were still reverberating through the hall.

She had never felt so powerful. She could feel the energy dancing across her skin and all she wanted to do was unleash it, and absorb more. She felt giddy, even slightly intoxicated. She turned to fix her fully black eyes onto the two San’layn as they stared at her, transfixed.

They moved simultaneously. Ra’thanar moved to stand behind Sylvanas as Keleseth ran towards the door, jumping over the corpses of his former bodyguard.

“Move, and she dies!” yelled Ra’thanar. He had hold of the queen’s shoulder and had a spell prepared in his free hand. Alyna felt for Sylvanas. She knew the woman hated to be helpless, but she appeared to be just that.

The former blood princess smiled slowly at Ra’thanar, before she cast a teleport spell and disappeared. She reappeared behind Ra’thanar and thrust Felo’alaan into his lower back and up through his body. While it would not kill him, she knew her blade would disrupt his magic.

She placed her own hand on his shoulder and calmly replied, “I don’t respond well to threats.” She pulled him away from Sylvanas, and pulled her runeblade out of his body. He had enough time to look at her before she swung the dark blade at his neck, and beheaded him.

Alyna looked up to find Keleseth facing her at the edge of the room. She laughed at him, knowing exactly why he was still there. It had happened to her several times. He didn’t move as she stepped over corpses to reach him, holding her wings high as she knew he had always been jealous of them. As she drew to within an arm’s length, Keleseth dropped to his knees.

She chuckled. “Arthas does not like cowards, Keleseth. You should have known that.” As the Lich King had been able to overwhelm her will and control her directly as he wished to, so he had done with Keleseth. The blood prince had failed the Lich King badly enough that he was giving his pawn to Alyna as punishment. He had become disposable.

“Take my soul, Alyna.” His voice trembled. “Please.”

It was very, very tempting to the power-hungry Alyna. Taking his soul would be the most intense energy she would have consumed, ever. But it would permanently kill him. He would escape justice.

“Show you mercy? You want me to show you mercy after everything you have done?” She gently touched her claws to his cheek. “Do you think you deserve it?” As he looked at her, she enjoyed the fear in his eyes, and the slow realisation that she would never show mercy to him. He tried to move, but the Lich King’s will was too strong. She removed her claws from his cheek and brought Felo’alaan to bear. “I will not spare you the punishment of the hell that awaits your soul, brother.” She snarled, “The same hell you would happily see my soul enter over the years. And then, when Arthas brings you back, you will suffer his own particular kind of wrath until he decides how you will serve him again.”

With a single swing of her runeblade, she removed Keleseth’s head and flung it pettily across the hall with an angry cry.

It was strangely therapeutic.

She flapped her wings a couple of times and dropped down before Liadrin and the paladins. Their heartbeats were loud in her ears, and now all the distractions were gone she was finding it hard to ignore them. The colour in the room began to bleed away as she saw the sheer purity of their souls.

A body fell into her, and she stumbled. Angry, she turned to see two fiery red eyes glaring angrily up at her from the floor where Sylvanas had fallen after hurling herself at Alyna. Without looking away, the queen held her bound hands up at Alyna. For a moment, the darkfallen was confused, her hunger still throbbing through her. Slowly, her mind cleared, and she touched the manacles. They froze rapidly and Sylvanas snapped them apart before swiftly removing her gag and ankle manacles.

The queen rose to stand before Alyna, slowly saying, “I get the feeling you did not need to be rescued.” She sounded suspicious, but surprisingly calm.

Alyna shook her head slightly. “I did. It is complicated.” She tilted her head slightly at her queen. “You … came for me?”

Something passed through Sylvanas’ elegant features that Alyna couldn’t make sense of. Her queen leant forward and very quietly said, “I will always come for you.” She pulled away slightly before giving Alyna a careful look. “You’re not in full control.”

It took the darkfallen a few moments to process the words before she shook her head. “Too much power. It’s … I want more.”

The queen nodded at their companions. “Use some of it to break them out of their restraints. And then … can you get us out of here?”

Alyna looked at the others as if they had suddenly appeared. “Yes. I can.” She began to freeze the manacles in turn automatically, not really needing to think about the task. As she did so, the paladins and rangers moved to collect what gear the dead vrykul had brought with them. Alyna spent the time trying not to take any of their souls, with Sylvanas watching her carefully.

When they were ready, they gathered around Alyna and she cast a mass teleportation spell to get them all out of the keep.


	23. Chapter 23

Sylvanas felt Alyna’s powerful magic surround her. The keep and the corpses strewn around the floor disappeared, and an unexpected sight filled her vision. She looked around at her office in Undercity, her surprise mirrored on the faces of everyone else she had taken to the keep. A moment later she heard a pained grunt. She turned to see Alyna collapse onto her knees, her runeblade dropping from her hand.

Immediately, she moved to kneel next to the woman, carefully avoiding the slumped wings.

“Alyna?” she asked with some urgency.

The queen’s query was not answered as she watched the woman struggle with whatever it was she was dealing with. After a few moments, Alyna eventually looked up at Sylvanas to give her a slight nod. The queen noted her eyes were back to normal, as were her fangs. She couldn’t help but feel some relief. While Alyna had got them out of a desperate situation, she had been terrifying as she did so. Liadrin and her paladins were giving Alyna very wary looks.

She rose and moved to the people who had risked themselves to save Alyna. Not one for speeches, she looked at each of them before giving them a very slight nod of her head. “Thank you.”

Her rangers smiled and bowed at their queen. Liadrin stepped forward and returned the nod. “We are glad we could help, Lady Sylvanas.” She gestured at her two exhausted-looking paladins. “With your permission, we should return to Silvermoon to recover.”

The queen gave her consent. “Agreed. There is a portal to Dalaran in the magic quarter. Be there in two days, and we shall all return to Vengeance Landing together.”

The three paladins took their leave, and Sylvanas then dismissed her rangers. Kyala gave the queen a questioning look, hesitating. Sylvanas understood her ranger’s instincts. Alyna was dangerous, and had barely been in control just a few short minutes ago. She acknowledged Kyala’s loyalty, and then gestured for her to leave as well.

She turned to Alyna just as the darkfallen was rising to her feet across the room. She looked weakened, but that was only to be expected. She had just teleported them all an unfathomable distance. Magi teleported themselves regularly, but mostly to points they had magically bound themselves to. Those points acted as a beacon of sorts, guiding the mage. Only the most powerful archmages could teleport to theoretically any point. She had not heard of one who could teleport so many people such a large distance though. The queen’s eyes focused on the runeblade. She knew from experience that Alyna’s runeblade was the reason she could teleport to any point. Without it, Alyna was a weaker mage.

 _Or was she?_ Sylvanas wondered. The energy to teleport them all to Undercity had not been something Felo’alaan had done alone. Most of that had been the power Alyna had absorbed.

Absorbed through the consumption of souls.

She frowned at Alyna. “You lied to me.”

To her own surprise, she did not sound angry. She felt disappointed, and hurt.

While Alyna looked uncomfortable, she did not back down. “You were not ready to know the extent of my abilities.”

The words stung as the queen walked to her desk. She found she could not deny the accusation. While she did not know the details of Alyna’s reluctance to feed on souls, she knew it would be rooted in the same reasons she did not want to feed on blood. Had she known what Alyna could do when the woman had arrived on her doorstep, she would have certainly pressured her to use such a skill or face undesirable consequences.

She also knew it would have destroyed whatever chance they had at a future.

Was that what she wanted now, she pondered. A future with Alyna?

Sylvanas looked at the nervous darkfallen. “Why did you take their souls?”

Alyna tiredly walked towards the map table and carefully placed Felo’alaan on it. She gave it a long look before she turned and tried to lean back against the table, but her wings got in the way. She scowled, and eventually stood away from the table, unsure what to do with herself.

Sylvanas wasn’t entirely sure if her question had been heard until Alyna finally looked up at her and said, “I denied them their desire to serve their ‘death god’ by taking their souls, and I permanently denied Arthas part of his army. I thought you’d be pleased.”

“So, you compromised the one rule I am guessing you have enforced upon yourself whilst feeding to screw them over because you were … what? Pissed off?” The queen’s voice was deliberately void of emotion and matter-of-fact.

Alyna laughed emptily, drawing a brief narrowing of the eyes from Sylvanas. “Are you seriously about to lecture me on how the ends don’t justify the means? You’re hardly a beacon of morality, Sylvanas.”

Sylvanas held Alyna’s challenging gaze before she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t give a damn that you took their souls. I want to know why you felt the need to disregard your own rules. What changed?”

“You changed,” Alyna immediately replied. She slowly walked towards the office desk as she spoke, “And you came for me.” She gave the queen a surprised look. “I had not expected that. I figured I would be treated as a resource that was too costly to reobtain.” Sylvanas felt a pang of guilt at the truth of the words. Alyna continued, “I knew I would only get one chance to escape, and I waited. But when I heard your scream something … else … just took over. I knew I could never let _him_ have you.” She stopped a couple of feet away from the rooted queen. “If that meant killing everything in that keep and destroying myself with the power I absorbed in the process, then it would have been worth it to save you.”

Something inside Sylvanas shifted slightly at the words. She ignored it. “And now you have tasted such power, and retrieved Felo’alaan, what happens, Alyna?”

The darkfallen shook her head slightly. “I did what I had to. I won’t deny the thrill, but as I told you when we first arrived in the fjord, the hunger fuels itself.” She looked away. “You had to stop me from attacking Liadrin and her followers. I will do what I have to, but perhaps now you understand why I have to be careful.”

The queen moved around the desk to stand next to Alyna. “You should know that it was Liadrin who convinced me to attempt the rescue. I … well. You were right in your initial assessment of me.”

Alyna turned to look at her with a raised white eyebrow. “She must have been very convincing.”

Sylvanas felt a curious lump in her throat. The emotion she had felt through her ring had kept flashing through her occasionally, and she had found it difficult to process. “You are more to me than just a resource. She reminded me of that.” Alyna’s black eyes widened slightly, and the queen changed the subject. “Will you be keeping the wings? You made good use of them.”

It took a moment for Alyna to process the sudden question. “The wings? No.” She glanced over her shoulder at the large appendages. “He made me into this, and while I have no choice but to feed I can decide what other of his ‘gifts’ I use.” She gave the queen a lop-sided smile. “You know my desire, Sylvanas. I want to serve you as a ranger, and while flight can be useful, the wings would incumber me more than give me an advantage.”

“I see.” She looked at the determined Alyna before her. She then pulled a small disc from a pouch on her belt and held it out to her. “Then you’ll be needing this.”

Alyna took the disc and frowned at it. “You’re … promoting me?”

“Some may think it too soon, but Areiel will not be needing it.” Sylvanas shrugged nonchalantly. “When I asked for volunteers to come with me to rescue you, your entire company stepped forward. Since you have their support, you might as well lead them.” She reached up to gently brush the woman’s cheek with the back of her fingers. “I wanted to make you a captain as soon as your training finished, but I needed to know I could trust you first. You also needed time to trust me.”

Alyna took hold of the fingers but did not move them away from her face. “I do trust you, Sylvanas. I will not let you down.”

Sylvanas smiled. “I know you won’t.” Her eyes fell to Alyna’s lips and she again found herself trying to process what Liadrin had forced her to experience through her wedding ring. It was not the right time though, so she shifted her red eyes to Alyna’s back. “Now, shall we get those wings removed?”

Alyna did not let go of her fingers. “Would you do it?”

Slightly surprised at the request, Sylvanas gave her an agreeing nod. Untangling their fingers, she signalled for Alyna to wait as she left her office down the corridor to her throne room. She was not surprised to see Kyala there waiting for her, and she despatched the ranger to find a shadow healer. When she returned to her office she found Alyna on her knees before the queen’s desk.

Realising there was nothing left to say, Sylvanas drew one of her swords and moved to stand off to Alyna’s side. Alyna had told her some time ago that she did not feel pain in the loss of her wings, but the act of removing them was such a violent process she wondered if that was true. She lined up her blow, and brought the blade down as hard as she dared. While she scored a deep cut, it would take several more before the wing would fall free. Alyna kept her head bowed as Sylvanas shifted her position to remove the second wing.

With both on the floor, the queen discarded the sword in favour of a sharp knife. She found herself kneeling with Alyna, her arm braced across the woman’s body, so she could finish the work she had started. Hacking off the wings had left uneven stumps, and she used the knife to cut them back as flat to Alyna’s back as she could manage.  The black blood oozing from the open wounds made things a little more slippery than she had thought, but by the time the healer arrived she had mostly finished the task.

As the forsaken healer went about sealing the bleeding stumps, Sylvanas remained on her knees, holding Alyna. She knew she should have stood and distanced herself in the presence of the healer, but she found she couldn’t. She found she needed the closeness, and took comfort from it. The reality of nearly being at the mercy of Arthas was starting to sink into her, and the fear she had felt was still there.

Even now, Alyna was still saving her in many different ways.

The healer left as soon as he was done, and they remained on their knees. Sylvanas rested her cheek on Alyna’s shoulder, gazing at the woman as best she could from that position.

“Thank you for rescuing us. For rescuing me,” she said softly.

Alyna turned her head to look at her, before raising her hand to pull back the queen’s hood. “Thank you for coming for me.”

Sylvanas smiled. She had always felt exposed without her hood on, but somehow when Alyna removed it, she never felt vulnerable. If anything, she felt as if she became something more, even when they had been alive. With her hood on, she was a ranger, and a general. When Alyna tugged it down and off her ears, she would always be the ranger and general, but now she was also a woman. One who was loved, and desired, and needed by her soulmate.

She still felt similar sensations as the dark crimson material slumped down her back. She had not been made the lesser for its removal, but she was now more than just a queen. She enjoyed the strong fingers brushing her pale-straw hair back from her face and neck. She felt comfort in the solidness of Alyna’s body. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt something more than just hate and anguish. It made her feel better, and it gave her a different kind of hope. She didn’t quite know what it would mean for her in the future, but she did know it was something she wanted to welcome back into her existence.

When Alyna kissed her, she returned it with her own kind of hunger. It was no longer an emotionally empty gesture for her, and she clung on with the kind of fear one knew at the near loss of someone who was deeply … cherished. Sylvanas almost laughed at herself. Even in her thoughts she was avoiding admitting what she believed she could now feel for the woman, but she was not denying the essence of it.

She felt fevered as she clawed at the little clothing Alyna wore. She was seeing and feeling through a new emotional lens, as small as it was, and she wanted more. She could see Alyna’s amusement at her apparent desperation, but it did not stop the darkfallen from flipping her queen on to her back on the stone floor. From the teasing touches to the talented fingers, everything felt different to Sylvanas. Even the orgasm that tore through her felt new, and she laughed in delight.

“I should rescue you more often,” quipped Alyna.

Sylvanas chuckled huskily. “Do you enjoy being my … what is the human metaphor? My knight in shining armour?”

Strong arms slid under her knees and behind her back as Alyna prepared to lift her. “I look better in leather.” She gave the queen a flash of a smile. “It’s also easier to remove.”

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow as she herself was raised from the floor to be carried into her own bedroom. She definitely couldn’t argue with Alyna’s self-assessment. As she was laid down on the bed, she made sure Alyna followed, enjoying the weight of the woman on top of her.

She smiled ferally at Alyna.

 _Her_ Alyna.

* * *

_Two days later …_

Sylvanas tightened the final strap on Alyna’s armour and then stood back to admire her handiwork. She’d had new leathers made for the woman after most of hers had been left in Utgarde Keep. They fit her well.

She also had something else.

The queen turned and moved to her extensive weapon collection hung on the backwall of her bedroom. One such weapon was wrapped in dark cloth, and she picked it up and held it out to Alyna. The curious darkfallen closed the gap between them and unwrapped it. Her black eyes widened slightly, and she looked up at Sylvanas.

“You made me a bow?”

The queen nodded. “While you slept. Yours was left in the keep, and I wanted to furnish my ranger-captain with something worthy of her talents.”

Alyna picked up the bow and examined it with a practised eye. The wood was strong, but flexible, and reinforced by bands of gleaming metal. The tips were bladed, and various decorative spikes stuck out along the limbs. Should she ever find herself in melee combat, the bow would be a useful weapon. Impressive, both the metal and wood bore delicate carvings. Elven script elegantly graced the metal with traditional ranger blessings, though she realised they had been slightly adjusted for the dark ranger crafts. The wood bore the iconography of the Forsaken. She smiled as she saw a particular carving of a stylised broken mask just above the arrow rest on the back of the upper limb. It was Sylvanas’ personal crest, and she had placed it where Alyna would always see it as she used the bow.

The darkfallen pulled back on the bowstring, realising it had been perfectly weighted for her. “Do you always make bows for your ranger-captains?” she teased.

Sylvanas gave her a slight smile in return. “Only the special ones.” Before Alyna could have any doubt as to whether there were other special ones, the queen stepped forward and drew the darkfallen into a slow kiss. When they broke apart, she added huskily, “Use it well, my Captain.”

Alyna carefully unhooked the bowstring and stowed the bow across her back, careful not to dislodge Felo’alaan. “Always, and in the service of my Queen.” She smiled at Sylvanas and gave her a playful bow. “I will cherish it, thank you.” When she raised her eyes again, she was more serious. “Which leads to the question, where will you have me use it first?”

Sylvanas gestured for Alyna to follow, and she led the woman out of the bedroom and into her office. She stood at the map table and indicated a particular point in the east of Dragonblight.

“There is a ship leaving for the fjord today with more soldiers and supplies. That will bring Vengeance Landing up to garrison strength, and will allow you to take most of your company further inland, to Venomspite.” She tapped her finger just north of where she had first indicated. “The Alliance have set up fortifications here. I want to know what they’re up to.” The queen then gestured at a sizable area further west. “There are also some old friends of yours nearby I want you to investigate. Once you have the information I require, you’ll be free to wipe them from existence.”

Alyna was clearly curious. “I have friends?”

Sylvanas allowed a small smile to creep across her face. “The Scarlet Crusade army that escaped your clutches at the Scourge enclave you formerly led have made landfall in a place they’re calling New Hearthglen. They call themselves the Scarlet Onslaught now, but it’s them, and they have built quite a fortress.”

Alyna mirrored her slow smile. “I see. You want to know what they’re up to and if we can use it to our advantage somehow.”

The queen’s smile broadened. “Exactly. Once you’re done, do as you wish to them. Just make sure they are not able to interfere with our offensive against the Lich King.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Alyna appeared very eager to hunt the scarlets, and Sylvanas couldn’t really blame her. They would also provide her with easy meals for quite some time.

“Once the scarlets are dealt with, and you make sure the Alliance are not up to something they shouldn’t be doing, we’ll be able to push through the zone,” Sylvanas continued.

“To Angrathar the Wrathgate?” finished Alyna.

Sylvanas inclined her head to confirm the guess. “Yes. Thanks to you, we know that is the primary gate into Icecrown Citadel. Both the Horde and Alliance want to secure the entrance, and at the very least make sure Arthas cannot use it to launch a counter attack.”

“At the least? You’re not thinking of launching a direct assault on the citadel through the front door?” Alyna sounded slightly horrified at the idea.

The queen held up her hand to forestall any further comment from Alyna. “If you weren’t here? Yes, the thought had crossed my mind. It has also crossed the mind of the other leaders. I have given them your warnings, but right now they are convinced a direct assault has the best chance of flushing him out.”

“Flushing him out?” The darkfallen was still recovering from her surprise. “They think the Lich King himself would appear at such a battle and they can, what? Cut off the head of the snake without setting foot in its lair?”

Sylvanas gave her astute lover a nod. “That is their thinking.”

Alyna shook her head. “They’ll fail. The Frozen Throne is not near the gate, but the entire citadel helps to empower him as the whole thing is built around the pillar of the throne. You can’t just kill him on his doorstep! It won’t _ever_ be that simple.”

“That is why I will not be joining you in Venomspite,” Sylvanas pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not soon, at any rate. I have to convince Thrall that we’ll be wasting our time with a frontal assault. We cannot brute-force our way into defeating Arthas; we need to out-think him. Somehow.” She gestured back at the map which had a sizable number of troops arranged before the gate. “I do agree we need to make sure he cannot use it. We’re finally making ground, and if the Scourge began pouring through the gate it could stop all of our progress very quickly.”

The darkfallen took in all of the troop placements across the south of the continent, and eventually she nodded. “Agreed. We need to keep attacking him on many fronts, and prevent him from counter-attacking.”

Sylvanas grinned at the eagerness Alyna displayed. “Then, let’s get to it. I’ll take the portal to Dalaran with you, and then you’ll fly to Vengeance Landing to gather your company for the trip to Venomspite.” She gave her ranger-captain a slightly sad smile as she realised she was going to miss Alyna more than a queen should miss a subject. “I’ll look forward to your reports.”

Alyna’s grin was one of excitement at being back in the field. Sylvanas knew how she felt, and was jealous of her for it. Being queen had its perks, but it also had great drawbacks.

She sighed internally as she led the way out of her office. She was definitely going to miss Alyna.

**Author's Note:**

> 24th Jan 2018 - A/N - I am in the process of moving house, and this has become complicated by a relative suddenly dying (natural causes). I'm writing, slowly, in my free time. I emigrate to my new home on 4th Feb, so the posting of new chapters will become more regular and frequent again after that point. Thanks for your patience!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Memoriam Defunctorum](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13222344) by [Anarchyinplasma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma)




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